


The Morning After

by TheWolfandTheStorm



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Parallel Universe, post-journey's end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24864412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWolfandTheStorm/pseuds/TheWolfandTheStorm
Summary: Everyone goes through the five stages of grief. The Metacrisis Doctor goes through the ins and outs of being human, while Rose begins to realize that it's time for her to start 'living' again. However, its not as easy as it looks, this new day after day. Its a terrifying new adventure for them both, but perhaps, with a little faith and a lot of work, they fall in love with each other all over again.
Relationships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor & Rose Tyler, Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No copyright infringement intended. Doctor Who belongs to Russel T. Davies and company. Thank you, Russell, David, Billie, and everyone else for being who you are.

The Morning After, Pt.1

Norway, 2008

It was a cool afternoon, breezy, but without the wintry chill. Much like the last time they were here. The sky was overcast, yet little hints of sunlight managed to poke their way through the clouds. As the waves bucked and crashed against the shore, a fine mist danced around them, filling the air with scents of the sea, the storm, and of time.

It was unique, this sense of deja-vu he was feeling. But it wasn’t the feeling of having been there. It was the memory. Standing out amongst the jetties of the bay, the Doctor closed his eyes, and with a sigh, remembered…

“What are you gonna do?” she asks, even though she already knows the answer.

“Oh,” he tries to reassure her with the barest hint of that patented Doctor smile. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he continues, “I’ve got the TARDIS. Same old life; last of the Time Lords.” He has to be the strong one, even if he doesn’t feel it. For her, above all else. She manages a small grin in response, but the emotion doesn’t reach her eyes.

“All on your own?” Rose was worried for him, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to handle losing her. It wasn’t as if she was faring any better, mascara running down her face with the force of her tears.

The silence between them is brief as she curls her arms around herself, trying to ward off the autumn chill. Even as the wind whips Rose’s hair about, he can still see her face constricting, her eyes tightening as they blink away a myriad of tears. Her shoulders fall with some unseen weight, and it’s all he can do not to just grab her up into his arms and hold her forever.

She looks at this man, her Doctor, and realizes that no words, in any lifetime, could adequately express everything he means to her. Perhaps, she reasons, that’s why he stays silent. In that moment, Rose knows it’s time. She has to tell him.

“I…I lo…” she hesitates. Her heart is pounding in her ears, and Rose feels like she can’t breathe. Steeling herself, she finally says, “I love you.” In that moment, Rose can feel part of herself dying away. He’ll take that bit of her as he fades away, and she knows that, without him, she’ll never again feel complete.

Seeing her cry about breaks him. He cannot bear to see her in so much pain, especially when he knows that he is the cause of her heartbreak. It is then that the enormity of her words finally hits him. No companion, not even Sarah Jane, had ever made such a declaration before.

But then, Rose wasn’t just any companion.

With her angelic smile and youthful enthusiasm, she had given his life meaning again. He hadn’t gone looking for it; had rules against such things, in fact. But somewhere along the way, she had become everything to him. She was his Rose, and he loved her.

Looking to her now, the Doctor knows that these are the last words he will ever say to her, and that realization hits him like a ton of bricks. He can feel the tears sting his eyes, and the lump in his throat makes it difficult even to breathe, but he holds himself together and replies, “quite right, too.”

She nods, a watery smile ghosting across her face, as he continues, “and I suppose,” he knows she’s hanging on his every word, “if it’s my last chance to say it,” and he knows it is, “Rose Tyler…”

But the words never come.

She watches, helpless, as he fades from her reality. The last wall forever closed.

Nothing remains but her name on the wind, and she simply stands there, her mind unable to register that he is actually gone. After a long moment, it finally sinks in, and she can’t bear it any longer. Her hand flies to her mouth, and she doubles over, her body wracked with sobs.

And in the TARDIS, a universe away, the last of the Time Lords stood in numb silence, completely alone with his grief…

A shiver brings his thoughts back to the present. The Doctor gazes down the length of the bay and spies Jackie walking out along the water’s edge. She’s chatting away on her cell phone with the biggest smile on her face. She’d said she was going to catch Pete up on things and arrange transportation home, but he was sure Jackie was trying her best to give he and Rose some privacy.

He takes a few more steps up the rocks and finds Rose sitting there, knees tucked up under her chin, and her thoughts seemingly a universe away. Somehow sensing his presence, she turns towards him and greets the Doctor with a warm smile.

He’s never seen her look so beautiful.

He returns her smile, and she raises her hand, gesturing him to sit down next to her. Their gazes lock for a moment, and Rose still can’t believe how much the Doctor has changed from what she remembers. His suit jacket and has been all but forgotten on the rocks, leaving him only in his red t-shirt. It’s un-tucked, and a bit wrinkled. She’s never seen him look so…normal. Which for her, is unbelievably appealing.

The Doctor slips Rose’s offered hand into his own and moves around a bit to sit down behind her. Spreading his legs so that she can lean back comfortably, the Doctor wraps his arms around her, and she relaxes into his comfortable embrace. Placing a light kiss in the soft hollow of her neck, he breathes in her scent; strawberry shampoo, sunshine, and time. It’s a collection of aromas that is uniquely Rose, and the Doctor is reminded of just how terribly he’s missed her.

He runs his fingertips lightly down her arms, committing every contour of her flesh to memory. The Doctor longs for her with an intensity that truly frightens him. His better judgment is telling him to back off, that she may never accept the forever he so desperately wants to give her. His heart, however, only cares about the here and now. And so, the Doctor kisses her once more, his breath just tickling her neck.

That little move elicits a soft moan from Rose, and she melts into his touch. She cannot fathom how she ever lived without it. A wave of intense desire for him swells within her, and its all Rose can do to fight it back. She wants so much to give in, to accept her beloved Doctor’s precious gift and live a fantastic life, but some part of her just isn’t sure she can. She wants to open her heart to this Doctor, this man, but the pain of loss still holds her in its grip, as she longs for the Time Lord she fell in love with.

And so they sit, holding each other, content to quietly watch the world go by.


	2. Chapter 2

After a few long moments, Rose’s voice is the first to break the lull.

“So…where do we go from here? Still saving the universe at every turn?” she asks, curious.

“Always,” the Doctor replies cheerfully. Rose is beginning to realize that actually expecting him to stay for any length of time was foolish. She feared this might happen, after all, human though his body might be, the Doctor‘s mind was still…well….a Time Lord’s. He’d promised her forever, a life together, but she knew his heart. Eventually, the wanderlust would stir him, make him long for the life he left behind. It was in his blood, as immutable as the stars.

“Donna and Martha have been good for you. I’ve got to admire their strength…and their stubbornness. You need someone that you can depend on, that you can…you know…trust.” she says honestly, but the Doctor senses the pensiveness in Rose’s voice.

“Rose…” he replies, confidently, “they could never replace you. We’re the stuff of legend, remember?”

And she does, all too well.

“I didn’t say they were. That’s not it,” she says, maneuvering herself around in his arms so that they’re facing each other. He lightly brushes a stray lock of hair from her face, enjoying the contact, but keenly aware of the worry in her eyes.

“What then? What are you trying to say?” he asks, genuinely concerned.

“It’s just…it’s not about Donna. Or Martha. I never expected him--you-- to be alone for long,” she tries to explain, but nothing she says seems to come across the right way. She lets out a sigh of frustration and closes her eyes for a moment, to collect her thoughts.

Rose looks at him again and continues, “this is about us. If there even is an us. We can’t just pick up where we left off. So much has happened! I worked so hard to find my way back, to be with him, and he just left me behind! Without even saying good-bye! How could the Doctor just walk away?!” she ran on, the entire situation starting to get the better of her.

“He had no choice, Rose. Your Doctor loved you so much, but he couldn't say it. Wanted to, but...he just wasn't human enough to give you the life he knows you deserve. Forever with him doesn't go both ways, Rose. It would've been selfish of him to think otherwise. But this way...by giving you himself, he's given us forever. Day to day, remember? The greatest adventure, and we can live it, together, on his behalf,” he says, trying to calm her, with little effect.

Rose‘s eyes begin to glisten once again with new tears, as the frustration and pain threaten to overwhelm her. “Three years ago, I stood on this beach and watched him disappear from my life. Before that, I still had hope. I believed that, somehow, he would find a way. Because that’s what he does, right? He always find a way,” she rants on, tears welling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.

Rose knew she shouldn’t be falling apart like this, but she just couldn’t make herself stop. For so many years, she’d kept her pain locked away. No matter what, her family and Torchwood always came first. She’d built a wall around herself, and it hardened her against the world. Her sadness was profound, but she never let herself give into her grief, not until now.

And that’s why, instead of trying to calm Rose, the Doctor lets her say her peace.

“My life changed when I lost him. After that, there was no hope, only survival. Torchwood kept me going though, and along the way, I learned a few things. Some of which would impress even him--erm--you,” she jabs her finger at his chest playfully, a watery smile on her face. “I just knew in my gut that I would find my way back to you. I had a promise to keep, after all. So, I swore to myself then that I wouldn’t give up, and when the Daleks returned, I knew I couldn’t.

After that, it wasn’t about us anymore. The fate of every universe was at stake, and I didn’t have time to think about second chances. But when I saw him, looked into his eyes, and held him in my arms, everything, all of it, just came flooding back. To have found him again, after so long, only to lose him in the same moment…I just couldn't…” her breath catches in her throat as the sobs become more intense.

“Rose, look at me,” he implores, squeezing her shoulder with one hand and tilting her chin so that her eyes are looking right into his own, “ I’m him. I’m the same person: the Time Lord whose life you saved so very long ago; the man who cannot remember one moment when he did not love you. I may be partly human now, but that changes nothing. I know its going to take time to work things out, but I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. It‘s alright,” he tries to reassure her.

He makes to gather her up in his arms again, but her body goes rigid, and the fragile hold she has on her emotions just snaps. She pushes against him, driving him backwards, finally letting go of the pain she has held back for so long.

“Its not alright! You can’t just come back into my life and expect everything to be exactly as it was!” she shoots at him.

The Doctor almost recoils at the force of her words. He understands the pain of their separation all too well, but he had no idea that she was so angry.

Seeming to calm a little, Rose continues,“After I lost him, I dedicated every moment of every day to finding a way back. The odds were shit that the dimensional transport would even work, but I never stopped trying. Never say never, he said, but I loved him too much to give up. I crossed entire universes to find him, and…he just left me behind. He swore I wouldn’t be like the others, that I was different. He promised me we’d always be together, and…I mean, I know you’re him and he’s you, but…it just doesn‘t feel…right,” she drifts off, her shoulders slumping in utter defeat.

For a moment, he simply didn’t know what to say. How ironic, that--the Doctor being speechless. He knew she still longed for him, her proper Doctor, but he didn’t realize how betrayed she felt. Silence fell between them for a long moment, as he pondered over what he could possibly say to ease her pain.

“Rose,” he whispers, so softly that she almost had to strain to hear it, “ look at me…please,” he implores, ghosting his knuckles lightly across her cheek. The warmth of his touch sends tickles of electricity down her spine, (maybe a bit of that telepathy he’s always going on about) her eyes fluttering closed as the sensations course through her body and pool at her core. It takes every ounce of restraint Rose has not to give in, but she steels herself, opening her eyes to look at him and listen to what the Doctor has to say.

Feeling a bit more at ease that he has her attention, he continues on, “do you remember when I regenerated the first time? My face was different. My personality was different, and it frightened you to think that the Doctor you knew might be lost forever. Am I right?”

She remembers that Christmas Eve as if it were only yesterday. She’d never forgotten how abandoned she felt at the thought that her Doctor might never come back to himself. But in the end, Satsuma in hand, he still managed to save the day. Just as he always did.

“Of course. I was terrified. I wasn’t sure you’d ever wake up,” she admits, a hint of sadness in her voice at the memory.

“But I did, and that night, we had Christmas dinner at your Mum’s flat. It was brilliant, and one of the happiest moments of my life,” he explains with a loving smile.

“Nut loaf,” Rose chuckles, and for the first time that day, a bit of real happiness manages to break through the clouds surrounding her.

He breaks into a patented Doctor grin at their little inside joke, remarking, “Ha! Nut loaf, indeed! But after that was over with, how did you feel? Did you still believe that the Doctor you knew was lost to you?”

“After you beat the Sycorax, I still had my reservations, but when you walked into Mum’s flat wearing a brown pinstripe suit, white trainers, and that ridiculous grin…well…that bloke didn’t look anywhere near the same, but I knew it was still you. My Doctor,” she reveals, tears once again streaking her face.

“I remember walking out into the courtyard, because Jackie said it was snowing. I asked you if you still wanted to come with me, even though we’d be seeing the universe through new eyes. And you, Rose Tyler--you wouldn’t even hold my hand! You thought it was creepy,” he jabs her in the shoulder playfully. “I was hurt.”

She laughs out loud and the sound is music to his ears.

“Yeah, well, you can’t blame me, can you? I watched your hand grow back from a stump after it was hacked off in a sword fight. You’re bloody well right it was creepy,” she retorts back fondly, and before she realizes what she’s doing, her hand finds itself slowly tracing the outline of his face.

His eyes slowly close at her feather light touch, and desire for her begins to overtake him once again. If they ever worked through this, the Doctor knew he wouldn’t ever go another moment without touching her. He needs that comfort like the air he breathes, as does she. After a moment, though, his resolve helps him gain a bit more focus, and his hand reaches up to take hers, as perfect a fit as it was all those years ago.

“But you did take my hand, eventually. Because I was still me, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah. New Doctor, but still mine. Nothing could change that,” she confesses, and with that, an unseen weight seems to lift from her shoulders.

“And nothing ever will. This,” he pauses, lifting their joined hands so that Rose will understand the depth of his meaning, “should tell you that.”

“When you hold my hand, does it still feel the same as when you held his?” he asks, almost afraid of what her answer will be.

“Yes,” she whispers back.

“As right and as complete as the first time in that basement elevator when I was the old me, and we about got bulldozed by homicidal mannequins, or that Christmas night when I was the new me, and I showed you the most perfect star in the sky, or the last time, at Canary Wharf, when we thought it was the end of the world, and you said you’d made your choice…” his breath hitches for a moment as that memory washes over him, and for the first time, she actually sees his own tears fall, “…was there ever any doubt in your mind?”

At that moment, as her gaze locks with his own, Rose begins to see the truth hidden within the depths of those dark chocolate eyes, and her dam breaks.

“No,” she affirms, tears now flowing freely. She can’t hold back any longer. Rose can feel herself giving in, but she doesn’t care anymore. With a full-blown, tongue-between-her-teeth Rose smile, she declares, “because you’re my Doctor, and no matter what, you always will be.”

And before he was able to say anything Doctor-like to ruin the moment, she closed that last bit of space between them, joining her lips with his in a kiss so absolutely fantastic, that the world, the universe, simply ceased to exist.


	3. Chapter 3A

If the Doctor was startled by Rose's forwardness, he certainly didn't show it. As a matter of fact, he was quite enjoying the sensation of her lips dancing with his own. She tastes wonderfully bittersweet, like orange marmalade and the vortex, all in one perfect package. Before long, her arms have wrapped themselves around his neck, and he can't help but grab hold of her, melding her body flush against his own. Running his fingers through her hair, he suddenly feels the overwhelming need to touch her mind. If she allows him passage, he would imbue her with love in a way that human touch could not possibly compare. His fingertips lightly brush her temples, and the Doctor instantly feels the slight spark of connection between them. Rose apparently becomes aware of it just as quickly because she flinches a bit, and, if it was possible, pulls him even tighter against her. Her entire body begins to tremble, and she sighs a very audible moan of pleasure.

Rose cannot even begin to comprehend what she is experiencing. It's as if volts of electricity are coursing through her body like mini orgasms, and, for right now, she hopes it will never end. Since her mind isn't as disciplined as the Doctor's, she can't contain the emotional firestorm that is being hurled at his senses. When the torrent hits him, he about loses it. If it wasn't for the fact that he was aware of their...surroundings...he would've ripped her clothes off right then and there.

And she wouldn't have stopped him.

Just as quickly as it begins, though, their connection abruptly cuts off like a broken TV antenna and fizzles out. That's enough to bring them to their senses for the moment, and they relax their manic hold on each other a bit. With an embarrassed look, the Doctor touches his forehead to hers and says softly, "sorry 'bout that, love. I guess the human half won't let my Time Lord brain work quite the way it used to."

"Well, it was definitely nice while it lasted," she responds drunkenly, her mind still buzzing. "And quite convenient, I might add," then rests her head on his shoulder contentedly. Sitting herself back up straight after a minute, she teases, "tantric telepathy...what will you Gallifreyans think of next?"

They laugh wholeheartedly at that, and the Doctor began to realize what it was to truly be happy. He swore to himself then, that he would do everything in his power to give Rose the life she deserved. Even if he had to spend the rest of his days doing so. Nothing would stop him. He loved her, and that meant he could do anything.

Any further thoughts on the matter, though, are immediately halted by an annoyed Jackie. She's managed to make her way up the rocks towards where they are sitting, and the Doctor realizes, with an inward cringe, that she's probably witnessed their entire snogfest. "Oi! Am I going to have to get the jaws of life to pull you two apart?" They both turn their heads at the same time to look at her. "Maybe you haven't noticed, what with your tongues down each other's throats, but we're sort of light on transportation at the moment!"

With a weary sigh, the Doctor looks back to Rose, and nodding towards the beach before them, says, "Ready to go home?"

"Home...?" she replies, a bit wistfully. Rose knows full well, that when she leaves the Bay, this time, she will never return. She doesn't want to say goodbye just yet, though, because leaving makes it real. He's gone. Her Doctor, and this time, it is forever. Her heart is heavy as she stands up and looks out at the Bay, but Rose knows she has to do this. One way or another, she's got to let him go. He'd given her what she always wanted, and in doing so, sacrificed his own happiness.

_"Have a good life, Rose. Do that for me."_

And she was going to. She owed him that much.

Looking out at the vast horizon, Rose watches as the sun begins its slow descent for the evening. The skyline bursts forth with beautiful shades of orange, yellow and blue. Its how she always imagined Gallifrey would've looked, from what little the Doctor had told her of his lost world. Oh, how she wished to be able to see that shining star for herself and share those memories with him.

Home. Rose always believed it was the TARDIS. She'd never felt right anywhere else. But home wasn't a blue police box or even a time-travelling space ship. Rose finally understood that now, what the Doctor had always been trying to tell her: home is where your heart is. And her heart was with him, the man sitting before her with an entire future ahead of him and the Time Lord, who loved her enough to make it possible.

Turning back towards the Doctor, Rose offers her hand to help him to his feet. For a moment, he seems unsure. This is a huge leap he's taking, being human, and she can see the trepidation in his eyes. It reminds her so much of the night they first met, all those years ago. She was the frightened one, then. But now, as Rose wiggles her fingers and gives him a grin full of anticipation, she realizes that everything they've done was leading up to this. Full circle, indeed.

"Home...definitely. C'mon," she urges him on.

Sensing that the mood has lightened somewhat, he acquiesces, allowing her to help him to his feet.

_"Everything's brand new to me. All those planets...creatures and horizons. I haven't seen them yet. Not with these eyes. And it is gonna be...fantastic!"_

He flashes her that manic grin of his, the one that is so very Doctor-like, and they walk, hand-in-hand, back down to the beach and to a new beginning.

They meet up with Jackie just as she's hanging up with Pete. "The reception's not that great out here, but I managed to reach your father. He says for us to get ourselves to town, and he'll arrange for somewhere to stay the night. Then in the morning, he's going to have one of his Vitex contacts take us to the airport in Bergen," Jackie explains, exasperated, "so, if you don't mind, maybe you both could stop making eyes at each other, and let's get a move on?" Her mum doesn't mean to be rude, they know. She's exhausted and is desperate to get back to her family.

"We've a helluva long way to walk, and we're losing the light, so..." she points out, trailing off as they begin heading towards the road.

"We know, Jackie. We're coming," the Doctor assures her.

Just as they reach the pavement, Rose turns around and takes one last look at the expanse before her, the past she must now leave behind. "I'll never forget, Doctor. Never," she whispers, a lone tear marking her cheek, "I love you."

As she turns back to the road, and they continue on, her words are carried on the wind, and she hopes, somehow, that he can hear them.

_"If you talk to Rose, just tell her...tell her...oh, she knows...."_


	4. Chapter 3B

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to break these two chapters up to avoid them being too long.

It takes the three of them at least an hour to make it to something resembling a highway. Fortunately, Jackie remembers the lay of the land pretty well from the last time they were here. She swears that the nearest exit to town isn't very far, and they should be able to make it before it gets too dark.

"I could possibly try to hitch us a ride," the Doctor suggests, jutting his thumb out towards the road for emphasis, "maybe we've only seen a few cars pass by, but its worth a shot."

Jackie looks at him as if he's spontaneously grown a second head and quickly bats his outstretched hand away so that no one will stop.

"Not on your life, mister! Aliens and monsters are one thing, but you have no idea who could be driving by at any given moment! You obviously don't know human beings nearly as well as you'd like us to believe, because--"

"Whoa! Now wait just a minute!" the Doctor interjects. He can already feel a headache coming on, and the unfamiliar exhaustion has rubbed his nerves raw. "I think I've been around humans a lot longer than you have, Mummy dearest (well, that's definitely Donna) so, unless you've got a better idea--"

"Oi! Enough!" Rose snaps, abruptly cutting off their tirade. She's so fed up with their arguing, she's ready to throttle them both. Turning towards the Doctor first, she says sternly, finger poking his chest with each word, "You. Calm. Down."

Looking at Jackie, she continues, "And you! Back. Off. He's only trying to help! Look, I know we've been walking for hours. We're tired and hungry...and generally really irritated, but in case you haven't noticed, "she gestures at the rapidly darkening sky, "the temperature has begun to drop now that it's dark. I don't know about the both of you, but I'd bloody well rather not stand here and freeze to death! So, do you mind?!"

With one hand on her hip and the other gesturing at the road before them, Rose gives them a look even a Judoon wouldn't question. It's obvious she's brooking no further argument.

There's nothing but silence between them for a long moment, but then the Doctor takes Rose's hand in his own, and she takes that as a silent apology. With a sigh, Jackie moves out in front to guide, and they continue on their way.

It's another forty-five minutes before the cold finally becomes too much to bear, and Jackie finally gives in, allowing the Doctor to thumb for a ride. By now, both mother and daughter are huddling at the side of the road, trying to keep warm with what little protection their jackets afford them. Their teeth are chattering so loudly, they can't even hear themselves think.

For his efforts, the Doctor hasn't had any luck with passing motorists. He'd already put his suit jacket back on ages ago, but it wasn't helping worth a damn. As a Time Lord, he was impervious to most forms of extreme heat and cold. Hell, he'd been flash frozen once to absolute zero after having absorbed the energy of a living sun.

But this human body...Rassilon, he hoped someone would stop soon.

He sticks his thumb out again and hugs himself with his free arm in a futile attempt to ward off the chill. As a stiff gust of wind assaults him while another car roars by, he becomes painfully aware of the fact that his 'bits' have just shrunken to oblivion.

Two more tries later, some compassionate soul finally stops for them. It takes Jackie a good fifteen minutes (she only knew enough of the language to just barely get by) to get across to the driver that they were needing a ride into town. He barely speaks any English, and she's probably used the wrong word somewhere, but it's enough.

He agrees to give them a ride.

His car is one of those no-bigger-than-a-tube-of toothpaste eastern European deals, but the three of them couldn't care less. It's warm, and it can move.

They all squeeze in, literally, and within twenty minutes, they're dropped off at the town's only inn.

Since Pete's already made arrangements for them, it only takes a moment or two to get checked in and settled. Rose and Jackie are a bit familiar with the place anyway, having stayed the night there...before. When Jackie hands them their room keys, Rose notices with some annoyance, that there are three separate numbers.

"Mum, you didn't have to--" but Jackie finishes for her, this time, sincerely.

"Rose, please don't start. Your father set it up that way, so you're just going to have to deal with it. Besides, sweetheart, it's only one night."

The Doctor doesn't know what all the fuss is about. As long as there's four walls and a bed to sleep in, what does the room number matter?

"Alright. C'mon," Rose lets it go, and they all adjourn upstairs.

They each find their respective rooms easily enough.

Just as the Doctor is about to put his key in the lock, he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. It's Rose. She traces her way down his arm to grasp his hand and whispers, "hold on. Just give me a minute, okay?"

He enjoys her touch more than he lets on, but gives her a small nod and turns around to lean against the door frame.

She then walks to where her mother is standing and turns her back to him. Whatever it is they're talking about, she wants it to remain private. Unfortunately, the Doctor's senses, even as a human, are better than most, and he can't help but overhear.

"Mum...I'm sorry about...earlier. I know I was out of line, its just..." she trails off, hoping Jackie will understand.

She does.

"Sweetheart...it's alright. It's my fault, really. I was being a complete shit out there for no good reason. We had enough to worry about without me cocking things up. And as for him," she nods coyly in the Doctor's direction, "well, I couldn't be happier for you. I know how badly you've wanted this, and I won't lie. Its not going to easy. But you'll work through it. Just like your Dad and I did. As for the rooms, well, it doesn't matter to me where you two wind up...as if I could stop you. I just figured...well...that you both might need some time...apart. You know, to decompress."

So that's it, the Doctor realizes. He hasn't really thought much about sleeping arrangements since they arrived. Just sleep. But, he supposes they'll get to that in a bit.

He tunes out the rest of the conversation, not wanting to be an eavesdropper.

"...Yeah, I guess. We'll see where it goes. Right now, I think all any of wants is to get some sleep," Rose replies with a tired sigh and a grateful smile.

"Good night, sweetheart," Jackie says and gives her daughter a warm hug.

"'Night, Mum. Love ya," she replies and watches as her mother goes into her room.

Seeming to be a bit more relaxed, Rose makes her way back to where the Doctor is standing.

"Hello..." he smiles softly, taking a hold of her hand. He looks as though he's wondering what's coming next.

"Hello..." she greets back tenderly. This is the first time they've been alone since arriving in the parallel world, Rose knows, and the feeling is a difficult one to describe.

The Doctor can sense that too, and decides that a little levity is in order. "So...we never did bother about about beds before...did we?" he asks, seemingly as if he's trying to remember for himself. He recovers from that train of thought in a split second and adds, "well then...no sense in worrying about it now. Shall we?"

Blinking for a moment to recover from 'ninety-miles-a-minute,' Rose laughs a bit. "No. 'Course not," she manages between giggles.

"Right, then," he replies and lets them in.

Before he can even say anything to her, Rose makes a beeline for the loo. He's not surprised. After all, they'd been walking for hours. She was probably ready to pop right about now.

Come to think of it...now that he's had a moment to actually sit down and take stock of things...

"Oh...thaaat's new," he mumbles, realizing for the first time what it means to, as the humans say, 'tie your penis in a knot.'

His 'bits' had finally loosened themselves from their previous...position, and...what was taking her so long, anyway?

Damn, but if she didn't hurry up, he was bloody well gonna piss himself and look like a complete pillock!

Not a moment later, the toilet flushes, and Rose comes back into the room, plopping herself onto the bed unceremoniously.

"So--" she starts, but before she can get a word in, the Doctor bolts into the loo without wasting a second.

"Okaay...that was unexpected," Rose says, surprised, but then shakes her head with a knowing grin when it dawns on her that he probably had to go just as badly as she did.

As she awaits his return, Rose splays herself out on the full size bed and revels in its much-needed comfort. The linens are soft and warm, and suddenly she's never felt so exhausted. She'd love to just doze off right here, but Rose fights back the urge with a yawn and resolves to stay awake so that she and the Doctor can finish talking about...things.

Her body, however, has other ideas, and within minutes, she's out like a light.

A short time later, the Doctor emerges from the loo...and is stunned by what he finds. Rose is dead asleep, clothes still on, and her hands are crossed over her belly like a picture out of 'Sleeping Beauty.' He thinks she is absolutely lovely.

He'd anticipated that she'd want to talk for a bit, get reacquainted and all that, but in retrospect, he knows a night's rest is the better alternative. Even though he's not used to the idea of long sleep cycles, anything more than three or fours hours being a total waste of time as far as he was concerned, he's so wiped out at this point that all he can think about is crawling in beside her and slipping into blissful unconsciousness...for at least a week.

Being careful so as not to wake her, the Doctor delicately brushes stray locks of hair away and begins the task of taking Rose's shoes and socks off. He doesn't want her to be uncomfortable. Thinking back on it, the Doctor muses that he's always enjoyed taking care of her, because more often than not, the situation is usually the other way around. That done, he allows himself to breathe again, pleased that her sleep hasn't been disturbed.

His hands absently make their way to the waistband of her jeans, but just as he's about to undo the button, he freezes.

The Doctor notices that his hands are trembling. And has the room temperature suddenly increased? Yes, he thinks it has.

He's wanted her so badly...and for so long....

But this isn't right. He can imagine her waking up to him touching her like that, and then...front-row-center for the Tyler slap.

That kind of stress, neither of them needs.

So, instead, he settles for slowly unzipping her leather jacket. At least this way, the Doctor reasons, he's not being inappropriate, and she won't be constricted.

The sound is a little louder than he'd like, and as he'd feared, Rose begins to stir. Her eyelids flutter open lazily, and for a moment, she seems unsure of her surroundings. He immediately pulls his hands away, as if being burned, but she's more perceptive than he gives her credit for.

Seeing her bare feet, Rose has a pretty good idea of what he was trying to do. Ever the charmer, she muses.

She has fond memories of how he used to dote on her so, and she finds she's missed it terribly. After years of building walls to keep people out, it was nice to finally be able to allow someone in--the right someone.

The Doctor is desperate to know what Rose is thinking right now. She's so quiet, and that doesn't seem like a good sign. Smacking himself inwardly for being such a wanker, he braces himself for the row he knows is sure to come.

"Hey, " she says with a yawn and a sleepy grin, then maneuvers herself to sit upright against the headboard. "Sorry 'bout that. Guess I was more tired than I thought."

"I...erm...I was..." his throat suddenly feels like the desert after a sandstorm, "I was just...going to lay down," he finally blurts out.

Yes, lay down. Right on top of you, Rose. Because I'm a complete idiot. What the hell kind of sodding excuse was that?!

Rose saves him from further self-beating by cupping his face in her hands. She runs her fingers lightly across the day-old stubble and finds the sensation oh-so familiar. His eyelids flutter closed as the Doctor allows himself to get lost in her touch. She remembers nights of cradling him in her arms after he awoke from nightmares of death and fire...so long ago now. She would caress his face and back, running light circles through his hair with her fingertips until he drifted off once again. In turn, after particularly long and arduous adventures, he would spend the entire day pampering her. He lived to make her happy.

And she lived for him. The other him. The one that walked away. But this new Doctor, she reasons, shares the same memories and experiences, the same feelings.

She hopes that, one day, it will be enough.

Rose can feel the tears threatening to fall, betraying her grieving heart, but she bites them back and says, "you don't have to hide from me, you know. As I recall, you used to do this back on the TARDIS all the time. Remember?"

"Did I?" he asks innocently, already knowing the answer, but still feeling a bit awkward.

She nods coyly, whispering into his ear, "and I never did seem to mind then..."

The Doctor's body visibly tenses as her breath tickles his ear, and he stifles a groan. Here he is, feeling utterly embarrassed, and she's playing the naughty card!

Grinning as if she's won something, Rose shifts the conversation back towards the actual matter at hand.

"Don't be so nervous, Doctor. I would've let you finish the job. It certainly wouldn't be the first time, yeah?"

"I suppose not, no," he answers, relieved that she's decided to change her tack. He honestly didn't think his self-control could take much more.

"But, Rose, things are different now. You said yourself...we're not the same anymore. What's between us isn't the same, either. You wanted to take things slowly, and I've been trying like hell to respect that," the Doctor explains, desperate for her to understand.

"I know. Believe me, I know," she agrees, sincerely, "but tonight, I am just way too tired to give a rip about modesty, so," Rose tugs at him, "give me your shirt."

Now she's really thrown him for a loop. "Wait...what? What?"

"Well, you don't expect me to sleep in just my bra and knickers, do you? You've got the only piece of clothing that's even remotely wearable for me. C'mon," she admonishes him, holding her hand out for her prize.

"Well, I...you..." he stumbles, unsure of what exactly she's expecting of him. The Doctor only takes a moment to make up his mind, though, and begins to unbutton his jacket.

"No...of course not. Just give me a mo..." but he never finishes. She's taken her shirt off now, causing all higher brain function to cease. His eyes are like saucers, and he thinks he may have stopped breathing.

Tossing her jacket and top on the floor, Rose turns back around, and the Doctor has just barely enough time to divert his gaze before she figures out that he's been staring. Eyes turned away, he wastes no time in ridding himself of his red shirt and holding it out to her.

Rose realizes, with some amusement, that he's crossed the line from being respectful to downright prudish. She loves that he can be so sweet sometimes.

Granted, he's now shirtless as well...and she's certainly enjoying the view, but Rose puts it out of her mind, as she knows that sleep is the number one priority. Besides, she's seen it all before, and she has all night to dream about his...tender parts. She takes the shirt and swiftly slips it on, grateful that it's at least long enough to reach her thighs.

Saving him any further indignity, Rose waits until she's under the covers to remove her jeans. The Doctor is so on edge right now, she knows that if she showed any more skin, he'd be likely to have a coronary embolism.

Sighing with immense relief, he quickly toes off his trainers and joins her in the bed, electing to do smart thing and leave his pants on.

Giving the Doctor a tender kiss on the cheek, Rose turns out the light, and he settles back against the pillows with one arm behind his head. The mattress is positively divine, and he begins to nod off within minutes.

Its not long, though, before he can feel her cuddling up to him.

Instinct screams at him to pull away, that they need some space right now. But for once, the Doctor tells the Time Lord part of his brain to sod off and take a vacation. He's not about to allow Mr. Tight-Pants up there to ruin the moment.

Rose curls her arm around his belly and settles her head on his chest, purring contentedly.

The Doctor wraps his free arm around her and whispers into her hair, "good night, love," but she's already fast asleep.

Soon enough, the fatigue finally claims him, and he joins her.


	5. Chapter 4

Most of the following morning went by in a fast-paced blur. Jackie'd arranged for everyone to get an 8 am wake-up call so they wouldn't miss their driver. The Doctor was up before that, though. It just wasn't in his nature to sleep any longer than he needed to, no matter how exhausted he was. He must've sat and watched Rose sleep for at least an hour before the phone rang, but he relished every minute of it.

Someone once told him that you can observe a person's true self when they sleep. The body and mind are in a completely relaxed state, vulnerable and unguarded. Everything that is hidden is brought to light. If you can watch someone sleep, and love them still, then you are meant to be.

He'd never heard wiser words.

After the phone call, though, it was time to get moving.

Once downstairs, they enjoyed a quick breakfast of tea and some kind of fruit pastie the hostess claimed was a local specialty. If it wasn't for Rose's constant needling about manners, the Doctor would've devoured the entire plate full. After a few investigatory bites to ascertain its quality, the two women were horrified to find him digging his fingers into the pastry with childlike glee. Rose was fortunate enough to be able to stop him before he started licking his fingers for all the world to see.

All the Doctor could do was whine that the fruit was the most amazing thing he'd tasted outside of six galaxies, and he wasn't leaving until determining the exact chemical composition in order to replicate it.

Jackie, on the other hand, was having none of it. They were leaving. Now.

The drive to Bergen went quietly by, and soon enough, they'd arrived at the airport and were on their way back to London.

The flight was long, and slightly maddening for the Doctor, who was not used to just sitting around when he could be doing...something. Thirty minutes in, he tried to make conversation with Rose, but she didn't seem to be in the mood. She'd grown somewhat distant during the drive to the airport, as he'd suspected she might. Even though their relationship appeared to be solidifying a bit more, he was keenly aware of how deeply painful it was for Rose to say good-bye to this place, and in turn, her Doctor. And so, he held her hand and dropped a soft kiss in her hair, trying to give her silent comfort.

Once they began to make their way further out to sea, though, she appeared to brighten a little. The Doctor knew Rose would talk to him when she was ready, and after a while, she did finally open up a bit. The Doctor sat, enraptured, as Rose regaled him with tales of her many Torchwood adventures. He was utterly amazed at how much she'd grown and matured in the years they'd been apart. He'd always known Rose was capable of so much more than she allowed herself to admit, and he was thrilled to see her embracing that.

There are two sides to every coin, though, and where Rose was concerned, that was very much apparent. Even in that battle-scarred London alleyway, where she stood just a few hundred yards out of his reach, the Doctor could tell she had changed. Obviously, she was a few years older, her hair and make-up having been considerably toned down, but that was just the physical. It was her eyes that captured him most...there was a time that those copper-brown depths glowed with such a fire and enthusiasm for life that one couldn't help simply drowning in her gaze. Now, it seemed, her light had grown dim from years of struggle and dashed hopes.

She wasn't the youthful, vibrant Rose he remembered. Her mind was razor-sharp, but her spirit was broken. Heartbreak and Torchwood had seen to that.

Tin soldiers, indeed.

The road would be a long one before Rose found her way back. The Doctor knew, though, that she had strength enough for the journey. For a Time Lord who believed in nothing that wasn't, in his eyes, tangible and absolute, he'd always believed in her.

And he always would.

He considered telling Rose about some of his adventures with Martha and Donna, but then thought better of it. She didn't yet see him as that man, the one whom she'd broken down the walls of space and time to be with. The one who actually experienced these things first-hand. That Doctor was gone, in her mind, replaced by a blue-suited pretender full of stolen memories, carbon-copied by chance during a time of crisis. When she was truly ready to accept that they were one in the same, maybe then he would tell her the story of his life without her.

He didn't have much more time to brood over that bucket of worries, though, because, before he knew it, they were landing at Heathrow.  
a  
They're incredibly grateful to have the flight over with, and before long, Pete greets them warmly right outside the security check-point.

Giving Jackie and Rose a huge hug, he says, weary but relieved, "thank goodness you're both alright! Jacks, I distinctly remember telling you to stay put. Far be it from me to think you'd actually listen. I'll have you know, its been eggshells around the house and at the office since this all started. Everyone's been bloody well terrified out of their minds!"

For a moment, the Doctor feels a bit like a fifth wheel. He steps back a few feet, out of the family's personal space, to wait until his presence is recognized. Rose notices his absence almost immediately; he isn't holding her hand anymore, but rather standing at a nearby bank of chairs. She walks over to him with a casual smile and asks, "what's wrong?" Then with a bit of humor, "you don't have to be a wallflower, you know. Tylers don't bite...much."

Chuckling softly at her remark, he responds, "no...it's not that." Then, with more seriousness, "it's just that...well...I didn't want to be in the way of...you know...family."

Rose blinks, mystified, at his reasoning and takes his hand in her own. "Nonsense," she responds firmly. Sincerely, she adds, "you have always been a part of this family, Doctor...and don't you ever go not believing that."

And with that, she leads him back over to Jackie and Pete, who are watching them intently.

"Dad, you remember the Doctor?" she says to Pete, and he nods, giving the new new Doctor a firm handshake.

"Not an easy person to forget, this one," he answers with an uneasy expression. Jackie'd filled him in as best she could on this...new Doctor's situation. He'd have to pry the more important details out of Rose in her debrief later, though. His wife tended to embellish things a bit, where as his daughter was more exact. Looking the man in the wrinkled blue suit up and down for a moment, Pete wonders just how much of this Doctor is true and how much is just a very good likeness.

Though his relationship with Rose had been a rocky one, at first, Pete had grown to love her more than life itself, and he'd be damned if he let anyone hurt her...even the Doctor. He'd already nursed her through months of heartbreak once; he wasn't about to let it happen again.

The Doctor can tell that Pete's eyes are on him. Sizing him up. He really can't blame the man. After all, despite being from parallel worlds, Rose is still Pete's little girl, and its obvious he just wants what's best for her.

"Quite right. I should say, Pete Tyler, you're a sight for sore eyes, as well! That being said...still calling this Pete's World, eh?" he responds, diving right in.

Pete flashes the Doctor a knowing grin, and the previously tense atmosphere becomes much more friendly.

"Never changes, does he, this one?" Pete says to everyone, jokingly. Before he can get any farther though, a bright red ball of pent up energy hurtles itself at Jackie and attaches itself to her leg.

"Mummy! Rosie! You're back!" The 'ball' turns out to be a manic three-year-old toddler.

"Oh, sweetheart! Mummy missed you! Give us a hug!" Jackie exclaims, delighted at seeing her son again. She hands him over to Rose so that she can give him a hug, too.

"Hey, little bit! Sissy's got someone she wants you to meet..." she turns towards the Doctor, "Tony, this is the Doctor. Remember, I told you all about 'im?"

The toddler smiles at him with an inquisitive glint in his eye and answers, "hello."

"Doctor," Rose goes on, "this is my baby brother, Tony."

"Not a baby, Rosie!" the tyke quickly admonishes her, and she ruffles his hair in response.

"Well...hello Tony! Nice to meet you!" the Doctor responds, cheerfully, shaking the toddler's little fingers.

Tony giggles profusely, saying, "Rosie got funny friend!"

"Am I?" the Doctor asks, grinning. "Funny? Clever, maybe. But funny? Ha! Brilliant!"

Rose laughs heartily at that and returns Tony to his mother's loving care.

"Well, let's get on then. Things to do, yeah?" Pete interjects to get everyone moving.

Twenty minutes later, they arrive at the Tyler mansion. The Doctor muses that it hasn't changed much since the last time he was here, save for the distinct lack of murderous Cybermen. As they adjourn inside, he's not at all surprised to notice how much Jackie has made her mark on the place. She enjoys the money, obviously, but she never forgot where she came from. The decadent coldness of years past has been replaced with an inviting warmth that has truly turned this house into a home.

Jackie leads everyone to the living room and excuses herself to put Tony down for a nap.

The three soon fall into an uneasy silence. Neither of them really know what to say at this point.

Pete would love for Rose to stay and get some rest, but he knows not to push her too hard. She just got her Doctor back, and she probably wants some time with him to...sort things out.

All Rose wants is to go home, get a shower, and burn her clothes. She feels like she's been wearing them for days.

For his part, the Doctor just wants to know why everyone is so quiet. He's really hating the whole standing-still-and-not saying-anything bit. That humans can be so flippant about wasting time when they have so little of it, is beyond him. Not that the Doctor doesn't recognize the limits of his own half-humanity. Because he does. Really. But even still....

He was getting tetchy, and if he wasn't careful, he was going to wind up going off and wandering the house, scaring some poor, unsuspecting housemaid to death.

Sensing the tension, Rose was the first to drop the shoe.

"Listen, Dad...I'm really tired. I think we're just gonna, you know, head out. I'm gonna take 'im back to my flat, alright?" she told her father.

"You're...sure?" Pete asked, with some concern. He needs to know that she's alright. "I mean, we've got plenty of room upstairs. You don't have to bother. Besides, your Mum will probably want to--"

But Rose silences him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Dad...honestly...it's fine. W'ell be back tomorrow, first thing, yeah?"

"Yeah. Alright," he agrees and gives her a hug. "Just...if you need anything..." Pete trails off, his gaze falling to the Doctor not at all accidentally.

"I know...and don't worry. We'll talk about it...I promise," she assures him and moves back to the Doctor's side. Taking his hand in her own, she gives him a warm smile, which the Doctor eagerly returns.

Appearing to be satisfied, Pete comments, "right. Well, I better get on the phone, then." Then to the Doctor, "Lord knows the strings I'm gonna have to pull to establish you an identity! You're gonna need a proper name, you know. Might want to think about that and let me know in the morning."

"Oh...I suppose that's true, isn't it? Well, there's always John Smith," the Doctor offers up, but at Rose's blank look, reconsiders. "Or not."

"Dad, are my car keys still where I left them?" she asks.

"Yeah. Kitchen counter, in the mail basket," Pete answers, pointing towards the doorway.

"Alright," Rose nods, then turning to the Doctor, she says, "listen...I'm gonna go up and say goodnight to Mum and Tony. I'll be back down in a few minutes. Just meet me at the front door, okay?"

"Yep," he agrees, popping the 'p' just like the other...him.

The look in Rose's eyes at the gesture does not go unnoticed by either man, as she gives her father a quick hug and kiss before heading upstairs.

He and Pete make their way back to the front hall, and the Doctor takes a seat on the small duvet near the door.

Pete looks as though he's about to leave, but decides against it. He's got to do this, he reasons. For Rose's sake.

"Get up," he tells the Time Lord, stiffly.

The Doctor looks at him curiously, but does so.

"Sorry? Something wrong?" he asks. The look on Pete's face is starting to make him nervous.

"No. Not yet. But you listen to me, Doctor...and you hear me well. That girl," he points towards the stairwell that Rose has just ascended, "risked everything, and I do mean everything to find you. From the moment she found herself stuck here, she's thought of nothing else. You have absolutely no idea what she went through after Canary Wharf...after she lost you. Rose was inconsolable for weeks. Even Mickey couldn't get through to her. Finding out that Jackie was pregnant seemed to pick up her spirits a bit, but everyone knew she was walking a thin line. Hearing you call out to her, that gave her hope again. Even though none of us wanted to let her go, at that point, we were willing to make the sacrifice. We knew it was the only way she'd ever truly be happy. But on the Bay...on that beach...part of her died that day. Rose was damn near catatonic for most of the way back home. We did what we could for her, but it was like...she just gave up. Her entire world was shattered into a million pieces because of you!"

Pete pauses for a moment to collect himself. He doesn't want to get explosive; he just wants to get his point across.

The Doctor just stands there, dumbfounded. Wisely, he decides to keep his mouth shut and lets Pete continue.

"You've no idea how angry I was then. For you to have given her hope, and then steal it away like that...what did you think was going to happen? She'd just walk away and move on? Because you're so good at that, you thought she would be, too? We had to medicate her for a while, it got so bad. But she never stopped loving you, Doctor, and she never stopped trying. Watching Tony come into this world brought her some measure of happiness, but she wasn't really living. She was just killing time. She believed in you, Doctor. That you could make the impossible possible. Quite frankly, I never believed you deserved that kind of devotion, not if you wouldn't at least try to--"

"Try?!" the Doctor snaps back, seething. It's one thing for Pete to be protective of his daughter, but to accuse him of not giving a crap? That was going way over the line. "What? Do you think I just sat back in the TARDIS all that time acting like nothing ever happened?! I went weeks without nourishment or rest doing everything in my power to find a way back through the void! I nearly tore my ship and my mind apart, I was so mad with grief! If there was a way, believe me, I would've found it, and we would not be having this discussion!"

His eyes blaze with unbridled rage. The other Doctor...he wouldn't have allowed his temper to boil. But this one, he doesn't have that kind of control. Yet, he knows he must think of Rose first. She can't be allowed to see them like this. It will upset her, and she doesn't need that.

Reining himself in, the Doctor continues, "if you think it was easy for me to give in and let her go...then you are sorely mistaken. I would've done anything...anything...to get her back. But I couldn't destroy two universes. Everyone would've been killed, and I knew Rose wouldn't want that. No matter the price. If you believe anything else, Pete Tyler, believe this--I loved your daughter. I love her still. Nine hundred years its been just the TARDIS and me, and I thought that was enough, but when Rose came into my life...she made me want more. She made me want her. I was expert at walking away, at being alone, but Rose showed me that I didn't have to be. Even though I knew forever with her was an impossible dream, when we were together, I allowed myself to believe. I lost myself in her. Used to be, traveling and fixing things were what mattered most to me, but after Rose, that changed. She was everything. My entire universe. She still is."  
.  
Pete takes a moment to absorb what the Doctor has said. Looking at him now, Pete can tell the man is serious.

"I don't doubt that you love her. I never did. It's just...Rose puts up this steel facade but, underneath it all, she's really very fragile. I know its going to take a while to work out the kinks. Lord knows, Jackie and I had a real time of it. If being with you gives me my daughter back, then I'm all for it, but I swear Doctor, if you muck this up...if you break her heart again...I. Will. Break. _You_. Are we clear?" he states with utmost conviction.

"Crystal," the Doctor answers, simply but emphatically. He's only one got one life this time, and he doesn't feel like losing it.

With that, they nod in some kind of silent understanding, and Pete bids the Doctor farewell. After a few moments left to himself, Rose returns, and they leave for her flat.


	6. Chapter 5

As it turns out, Rose's flat is clear across town. It's actually not too far from the Powell Estates, and she prefers it that way. The place isn't nearly as blue-collar as what she was raised in, and yet it's not the lap of luxury, either. She never could get used to living in the mansion, and being near her old stomping grounds helps her feel that much closer to home.

She leads him inside, and the Doctor gets his first real view of Rose Tyler's life without him. It's definitely not what he was expecting. To say the place is spartan is an understatement. If the living room is any indication, it seems as though Rose hasn't spent much time 'living' in this flat at all. The furniture looks to be very utilitarian, bought more for practicality than appearance. The place has the kind of neatness you would expect of someone who doesn't spend much time there to begin with. There's a fine sheen of dust over just about every surface, and what few possessions she does have to mark her presence don't seem to have gotten much use.

As he continues to peruse the room, Rose strips off her jacket and hangs it on a nearby coat rack, then relaxes onto the couch and toes off her trainers. The Doctor slides into the love seat beside her and runs his fingers across the soft, plush fabric, absently wondering just how many times she must've fallen asleep there, during night after night of working herself to exhaustion. The thought that Rose would put herself through that, all because of him, leaves him feeling utterly dismayed.

As Rose turns to him, though, he tucks the sadness away for another time. The Doctor knows that if they continue to dwell on past hurts, he and Rose can't possibly have hope for a real future. A future they both desperately want.

She sighs wearily and says, "so...it's not much, but it's home. There's the kitchen," and Rose points to it across the way, "the bedroom and loo over there," she gestures towards the other side of the room, "and my office right next...but it's something of a disaster area at the moment, so I wouldn't recommend you go in there."

He nods in understanding and comments, "Ah...workaholic, eh?"

Rose smiles a bit at his attempt at humor, "I suppose you could say that your Time Lord manic hysteria kind of...rubbed off on me."

The Doctor gives her one of his best boyish grins and replies, "well....at least you're not boring!"

Having caught her completely off guard with that, Rose bursts into a fit of giggles, and for just a moment, it's as if nothing has changed between them. There's a calm and easiness about them that's very much reminiscent of the way they once were.

It doesn't last, though, as Rose rises from the couch and heads over to her bedroom.

The Doctor is keenly aware of her absence, as the warmth of her presence is quickly replaced by a lonely chill. For her part, Rose is beginning to feel slightly claustrophobic, even though the room is an entirely open space. She's glad he's here, to be sure, but at the same time, she can't help but need some room to breathe.

Shower, she says to herself. Yes. Must shower.

Rose disappears into the bedroom and reemerges a moment later carrying some clothing and a towel.

She hands the bundle over to him and explains, "So...I'm just...gonna get a quick shower and change of clothes, yeah?"

"Sure. Of course," he replies.

"Right then..." Rose pauses for a moment, pondering over how exactly she's going to explain this, "there's a towel, so you can wash up, and these..." she tugs at the clothing just a bit, "well...they used to belong to Mickey, so it might be a bit...big. But I reckon they'll do until we get you an actual wardrobe tomorrow."

Giving the items a quick perusal, the Doctor responds kindly, "No worries. And...thank you."

He seems satisfied, but Rose already knows what he's thinking. It's more than obvious.

"Oh, no. Don't even go there! There hasn't been anything between Mickey and I for years. You've always known that. Doesn't mean he just stopped coming around, though. We were always best mates, despite everything," she tells him, stunned that, after all they'd just been through, the Doctor would even make that kind of assumption.

By the hard look in her eyes, the Doctor can tell he's already made a huge mistake without even saying anything. Talking to Rose never used to be this difficult before...

She turns then, and heads back for her bedroom.

"Rose! Wait..." he gets up quickly and walks over to her, grabbing her arm slightly to stop her. "I didn't...I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to accuse you of anything. Honestly."

Though her back is still turned, the Doctor notices the tension finally ease out of her body. Rose turns to look at him then, the steel in her eyes having melted considerably.

"No, I'm...I'm fine. I shouldn't have gone off like that. It's just...everything. You know?" And he nods, because he does. "Anyway, like I said, I'm gonna shower, and as soon as I'm through, you can do the same, if you want," she says matter-of-factly.

"I think I'd like that, yeah," the Doctor responds, relieved that he hasn't completely put his foot in his mouth.

"That's fine. Give me about fifteen minutes and then it's all yours," Rose tells him, and disappears once again into the bedroom.

"No rush..." he replies at the door, although he knows she probably doesn't hear him.

Left to his own devices for a while, the Doctor takes some time to really get a good look around. He's not trying to invade her privacy or anything, but rather, just trying to satisfy an idle curiosity. Other than the sofas and television, there's painfully little else in the living room, except for a five-shelf bookcase, filled to the brim with all manner of different texts. Her taste is just as eclectic as he remembers, but the Doctor notices that Rose has added a number of things over the years. Aside from the various Torchwood reading materials, there's books on quantum physics and thermodynamics. Below that, there's a few historical and cultural anthropology texts. She even has a few novels of classic literature, including another copy of Agatha Christie's 'Murder on the Orient Express' much like the one he kept on the TARDIS. Some medical books followed, including one or two having to do with forensics.

He was hard-pressed to find any personal items, though. Other than some women's magazines on the coffee table, and random family photos scattered here and there, you'd never know it was Rose that lived here.

Making his way to the kitchen, the Doctor's not surprised to find it looking relatively unused. A rubbish bin partly full of take away boxes tells him that she doesn't get around to cooking much...that and the fact that her kitchen table is covered with so many papers, notebooks, and other work-related items, it's a wonder she even eats there at all.

Bypassing the office entirely, having already surmised that she probably spends most of her time in there anyway, (and not wanting to accidently stick his nose into something classified), the Doctor moves back into the living room and sits back down on the couch. Just having looked around, he's shocked to find that Pete was right. Rose wasn't trying to settle into this place, this world. There were no attachments here, as if she'd always known her stay would be temporary.

And the Doctor thought she could make him better?

What about her? Who was to heal Rose, then? Or had the Time Lord, in his haste, not even considered...

But he was like that sometimes. Making rash decisions. Not thinking far enough ahead. Nine hundred years old, and yet, how like a child...

Lost in his thoughts for a moment, the Doctor doesn't notice the mantle above the fireplace until a gleam of golden metal catches his eye. Walking over to take a closer look, he almost can't believe what he's seeing. It's a small item, palm-sized, and could easily be mistaken for a middle-eastern incense burner. What's odd is that it's isolated from just about everything else in the room, as if it's some kind of priceless treasure. With a careful hand, the Doctor reaches out and picks it up, letting his fingers glide reverently over the smooth metallic surface.

He can't believe she still has it, after all this time.

Just then, Rose chooses that moment to join him again. She's finished with her shower, and is dressed casually in a pair of sweats and a small t-shirt.

She notices immediately what's attracted his attention, and watches him for a long moment before saying, "it's a bezoolium."

Not realizing she's there, the Doctor is caught off guard by her comment and almost drops the thing before finally managing to correct himself.

"Well, yes, but...I just...I had no idea you actually kept this," he admits, somewhat astonished.

"Yeah, well," she walks over and takes it from him, holding it with both hands as she continues, "Mum didn't really care for it, so I just put it back in my pocket. I was gonna take it back to the TARDIS later, but then...chaos ensued. Should've known better when you're around," Rose explains, with the tongue-in-teeth smile the Doctor knows so well.

He hasn't seen it since the hotel room at Daleg Ulv Stranden, and he's glad it's reappeared.

"Long story short, I just sort of...forgot about it. So much had happened, and I honestly didn't realize I'd kept it until the maid took my coat for cleaning. All things considered, it was an incredible stroke of luck I managed to hang on to it all that time. Once I found it, the Bezoolium stayed with me night and day. I never let it out of my sight. It was all I had left of you, especially after...well..." she trails off, not wanting that horrible memory to worm its way to the surface and sour her mood.

"I know what you mean," the Doctor finishes for her, suddenly reminded of the purple jumper she'd left strewn across one of the corals in the console room.

The same one that Donna had picked up and flashed about right after being accidently transported to the TARDIS.

He didn't realize Rose had left it up until then, having focused his attention entirely on finding a way to get her back. When he finally did notice, the Doctor took the shirt to his room, where it has stayed to this day.

Quietly, she returns her treasure back to its resting place, and says, "Such a tiny, insignificant thing...but it gave me hope during some of my darkest hours."

Not wanting to dwell, Rose wastes no time in scooting away to the kitchen. The Doctor can hear her opening cupboards and drawers, apparently attempting to prepare something.

"So..." she says, her voice raised a bit above the clatter, "the shower's all yours! Use the bedroom if you need it! I'll have some tea made by the time you're done!"

He would respond, but she seems to be totally engrossed in her task. Instead, the Doctor grabs the pile of borrowed clothes, and heads off to the loo.

The hot water is immensely relaxing on his tired muscles, yet another facet of the human condition that he'll have to get used to.

Less than ten minutes later, he's finished, (even partly human, he still can't stand to waste a moment of time) and wrapping a towel around his waist, makes his way into the bedroom.

Rose wasn't kidding. The room's not a war zone, but its definitely a mess. At least she remembered to put her clothes in the laundry bin, he notices with some relief.

As the Doctor dresses, (deciding immediately to go commando, because he definitely wasn't about to wear someone else's knickers) he begins to take stock of what he's seen. With some disappointment, he's begun to realize that Rose doesn't seem to have had any kind of life at all. To have cast her own well-being aside for his sake...Pete was right. He didn't deserve that kind of devotion.

No. Rose deserved to have someone take care of her for once. He owed it to her family to make her happy again. He owed it to Rose.

The Doctor would worry about his own psychological melodrama later.

A short time later, the Doctor emerges from the bedroom. He's fully dressed and has a plan ready for action.

Rose, he finds, is sitting on the couch nursing a cup of tea. As he joins her, she hands him one of his own.

"Better?" she asks, thoughtfully.

"Much. Thank you. And don't worry about the clothes. I can do wonders with a belt, believe me," he states, and puts the tea down on the table, not really wanting it.

"Listen...I was thinking. I know you're probably too tired to be bothered with preparing food right now, so...why don't we just...go somewhere? Wherever you want to eat. You choose. I want us to have some fun like we used to. Don't you?" the Doctor asks cheerfully, hoping Rose wants this as much as he does.

She appears to ponder this a moment, and for a second he thinks she might decline, but then Rose smiles warmly and says, "well...I suppose that can be arranged. Yeah. C'mon, let's go."

The Doctor's ecstatic that she's agreed, and he quickly launches himself from the couch, pulling her along with him.

She stops them short of the front door, though, commenting, "I don't suppose you'll be paying for this?"

Feeling incredibly stupid, he gives her puppy-dog eyes, silently begging for forgiveness.

She responds with a terse, "Thought not."


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly sexy times ahead! Don't flame me! There's a method to my madness, trust me!

A short time later, Rose has changed into something a bit more presentable; a burgundy colored wrap-around top with three-quarter inch sleeves and a black, multi-length skirt, starting on one side at the thigh, and ending on the other just at the knee. She complements the look with a pair of black gladiator-style heels that tie very nicely above the ankle. Her makeup and hairstyle are simple, natural. The only jewelry she's wearing is a tasteful pair of earrings.

Seeing her now, the Doctor is absolutely stunned. His Rose has truly begun to bloom. She's exquisite, and suddenly, he feels woefully under-dressed.

"Rose, I...you..." he's blubbering like an idiot, but, catching himself, says breathlessly, "...you're amazing."

She blushes profusely, not at all used to him looking at her like that. Rose remembers, years ago, the way the Doctor used to steal glances at her all the time. He thought he was being stealthy, and she pretended not to notice, but she liked it, nonetheless.

This is different, though. His eyes darken, and Rose feels as if the Doctor must be undressing her with his mind. It's flattering, if not disconcerting at the same time.

"Oh...this? I just threw it together. You know me...great in a pinch," she replies, with feigned ignorance.

Nervously, the Doctor responds, pointing his thumb towards the bedroom, "maybe I should just...put my suit back on?"

"Good Lord, no! You wore that thing for two days! Honestly, what you've got on is just fine. It's not as if we're going somewhere black tie or anything," she tells him, without missing a beat. Rose then grabs her purse from the kitchen counter and heads for the door.

"You coming?" she asks, wondering why he's just standing there.

"Hmm? Oh, yes! Right!" the Doctor snaps to, and before Rose knows it, he's pulling her out of the flat and down to the car.

She decides to take him to a little bistro she knows on Buxton Road called Fenwick's. They've got a quiet, intimate atmosphere, which is just what the two of them need.

And it doesn't cost an arm and a leg. Which will, at least, keep most of his manhood intact.

The restaurant isn't too busy when they arrive, and they're given a booth relatively quickly. Fenwick's is a small eatery, just some booths, tables, and a bar. The warm candlelight and soft music gives the place a quaint, romantic feel.

A waitress soon comes by and introduces herself. "Evenin'. My name's Vickie. Can I get you lot something to drink?"

"Well, hello Vickie! Nice to meet you!" the Doctor greets her with a flourish. "Got any ginger beer?"

Rose stifles an amused laugh. Some things never change.

"Ginger beer?" Vickie thinks for a moment, then says, "yeah. I believe so. And for you, Miss?"

"A glass of red, please. Something sweet," Rose tells her.

The waitress nods and turns to leave them when the Doctor suddenly interjects, "Actually, scratch the beer. Can you make that two?"

"I think I'll just bring the bottle..." she quips and walks off to fill their order.

Silence stretches between them for a moment, and neither of them can suppress the feeling of awkwardness. At one time, they wouldn't have given the idea of going out to dinner a second thought, but now, they're acting like two strangers on a blind date.

Vickie returns after a little while with a bottle of Cabernet and pours them two glasses.

"So...ready to order, or do you still need a minute?" she inquires.

Rose orders her usual--a salad and Yorkshire pudding--but the Doctor hasn't even bothered to look at the menu. The wine glass, apparently, has captured his attention.

"And for you, Sir?" Vickie asks him. He doesn't appear to have heard.

"Doctor?" Rose prods, and he realizes, with a start, that they're waiting on him for something.

"What? Oh! Right. I'm ordering food. Food's good," he says. Picking up the menu, the Doctor adds, "because we're supposed to be eating. Right. Listen, I'm rubbish with these things," he continues, handing the menu to the waitress, "can I just have whatever she's having? That's okay, yeah?" his gaze darts desperately from Rose to Vickie, earnestly awaiting some kind of reply.

Eyeing him with a placating look, Rose nods to the waitress.

Vickie responds, "brilliant. I'll just make that for two, then," and smiles before walking off to the kitchen.

With a sigh of relief, the Doctor takes a gulp from his glass. "Well...that went swimmingly, I think," he comments, with a sniff.

Rose takes a drink as well and responds, "I guess. I don't know why we're both acting like such plums. It's not as if we've never gone out for dinner before."

The Doctor considers that for a moment and decides he'd better relax or this entire evening is going to wind up being completely blown to bits. He wants them to have fun, and so far, all they've managed to do is make each other uncomfortable.

Watching Rose run her fingers across the table's smooth cherry wood, the Doctor suddenly realizes he hasn't actually touched her, other than hand-holding, since the hotel. He very much misses the feel of her flesh against his own, but fears he'll come off as a cad if he pushes too hard. Instead, the Doctor settles on a simple gesture, and surreptitiously slides his hand across the table, taking her hand in his and brushing a soft kiss across her knuckles.

She returns his kindness with a loving smile and contented sigh.

Feeling he's made a good start, the Doctor returns Rose's hand to the table and begins lightly making circles in her palm with his thumb.

"Does that 'we' still include me? Or do you still not believe that we're the same? I mean...I gathered that's why this is so difficult for you," he posits, a hint of worry in his voice.

"No," Rose refutes, wistfully, "I know you're the same. In every way that counts. It's more...well...me feeling conflicted. On the one hand, part of me is still angry at him for just popping off the way he did, even though I'm fairly sure I understand his reasoning. And on the other, part of me feels as though I'm betraying what we were--are--to each other by trying to be happy with you. And yet, you're still him. You see...it's all so bloody frustrating! I guess...I just thought that...that we were forever. Shiver and shake. After all that pain of being separated, you'd think he wouldn't let me go for anything in the universe."

The Doctor gives her hand a squeeze of comfort, wishing so badly that he could ease all of those hurts. How that Doctor, the other him, could allow such a perfect angel to slip through his grasp, he'd never know. If the roles had been reversed, he probably would've left the other him in Jackie's care, dropped Donna off at home with a memory wipe, and after setting the TARDIS to idle in the vortex, he'd make Rose very well aware of how much he loved her...on every available horizontal surface.

But hindsight isn't always twenty-twenty.

"Rose...you have every right to be angry with him. He didn't exactly give you a choice in the matter. I can't really say for certain what led him to the decision he made. Well, actually, I can. Because I'm him. But...that's besides the point. What I do know, us being the same, is that the Doctor loved you. Still loves you. Just as much as I do. If there was no...me...to worry about, then nothing would've kept him away from you. Nothing. He would've brought you back with him in a heartbeat. Without hesitation. And I know this because we're the same, here," the Doctor puts a finger to his temple, "and here," then lays Rose's palm against his chest, over his heart.

She can almost feel its rhythm beneath her fingertips. Single. Solitary. So incomplete without its mate. And yet, they both love, with the same fervor.

Would he ever get used to that? Rose wonders. Would she?

"I think I'm beginning to understand that now," she reveals, honestly and sincerely.

"Maybe so..." he trails off, cheerfully raising his glass to hers for a clink of celebration. Rose happily responds in kind.

Pleased that they've moved past another mountain of tension, the Doctor gives their glasses a top-off and tries to make more appealing conversation.

"So...what are we supposed to be doing tomorrow? Will I have to go to Torchwood? Because I'm still not entirely fond of them," he prattles on, manically.

Rose smiles appreciatively, grateful that they've steered towards a safer topic. Focusing on the serious issues, she finds, is extremely tiring.

"Actually, I was sort of hoping that we could get you to the shops. For some clothes...among other things," she replies.

"Other things? What does that mean exactly? Clothes I get, but 'thing' is a very enigmatic word. Could mean any number of...well...things," the Doctor says.

"It means what you'll need. Razor, toothbrush...mousse. Lord knows, you love your hair. And the TARDIS isn't here to provide for you anymore," Rose explains, somewhat bluntly.

A look of sorrow comes over him, and she immediately regrets her choice of words.

"I...I'm sorry, Doctor. That was...wrong of me. I forget sometimes that you lost someone, too," she apologizes, admonishing herself.

"It...it's alright. She wasn't really mine to begin with. I never truly bonded with her the way he did. But...I do miss her presence, sometimes," he tells her, trying to be reassuring.

"It's not just that...the sound is what I miss most. Time was, I couldn't get to sleep properly without her hum surrounding me. The sound of the universe...that's not something you can easily replace," Rose reminisces fondly.

"Yeah. It's definitely...different. The quiet. But I'm dealing with it, I guess," the Doctor admits, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

It's then that Rose remembers something she has at home that might cheer him up a bit. She decides to save it for later, as a surprise.

A few minutes later, Vickie returns with their meal, which they enjoy in companionable silence.

They spend the rest of their time discussing possibilities for his new identity. Some of their ideas are workable, others ridiculous. They laugh themselves silly, and for a long while, it feels like old times. The Doctor still can't seem to decide on name just yet, and Rose isn't about to prod him over it. She knows this is something he's going to have to figure out in his own time.

Once they're done, Rose makes to pay the bill. She doesn't seem to mind, and the waitress looks like she cares even less, but having to be dependent on someone has the effect of making the Doctor feel about two feet tall. He'll have to remedy this money problem...post haste. He's not going to be looked upon as a sponge.

Rose deserves better than that.

She leads him out to the car then, anxious to get home and reveal to him her secret. She's hoping it will put him more at ease, as it did her so many nights over the years.

Soon, they arrive back at the flat, and Rose tells him, "go ahead and relax. I've got something in the bedroom I need to find. It's...well...it's something I've been meaning to give you. Just give me a minute..." her voice trails off as she trots away.

Not knowing what else to do, the Doctor strips off his coat, hangs it on the rack, and then drops down onto the couch. The cushions' soft comfort reminds him again that he's actually pretty tired. It's been a very long day, and he figures if he can just sit back and rest a bit, he'll feel much better. Tilting his head back and spreading his arms across its length, the Doctor closes his eyes for a moment...and dozes off almost instantly.

A few long minutes pass in relative quiet, the only sounds coming from Rose, rambling about in her room.

Without warning, she exclaims, "do us a favor, will you, Doctor?"

His eyes pop open with a start, and for a second, he forgets where he is. Hearing Rose's voice, though, brings him back to reality.

"Sorry! What was that?" he asks, trying to keep the air of panic from his tone.

"Yeah...could you just...turn on the stereo? It's right on top of the bookcase!" she asks, still searching.

"Stereo. Right! No problem!" the Doctor replies, going over to the bookcase. He turns it on, and within seconds, an R&B song blares loudly throughout the room.

He quickly turns the volume down to an acceptable level followed by, "sorry! Sorry! I've got it!"

"That'll be Mickey's then! S'okay! Just turn on the radio for a bit!" Rose answers.

Setting it back on the tuner, the Doctor begins shuffling through the various radio stations, looking for something nice enough to set a decent mood. After a few minutes, when he's just about given up on human musical tastes, he comes across an oldies station. It's the old BBC wartime channel that sometimes still broadcasts big band music from the thirties and forties.

An advertisement is just ending, and soon, the music starts back up. As soon as he hears the first few notes, the Doctor stills. He almost can't believe his ears. It's that song...he can't remember the name just now...but its the same one Rose and Jack danced to all those years ago.

"Glen Miller..." he whispers, absently. Rose joins him then, having heard the music herself. Her eyes are glistening with unshed tears over memories of opportunities lost.

"That's one I haven't heard in a while. A very long while..." she reflects, sadly.

"That night, when you danced with Jack...that's when things began to change for me," the Doctor admits, almost as if he's talking to himself.

"But we danced, too, you know. I really liked that," Rose tells him, slipping her hand into his.

"Yes, but...we never got to finish. Something was always getting in the way..." he says, turning to her as if just now realizing she's there. His tone implies that he's not just referring to that dance, but so much more.

"Not this time..." she whispers in his ear, wrapping her arms around his waist as an invitation.

The Doctor smiles profusely, more than happy to oblige. He holds her closely, and in response, she melds her body with his own, resting her head on his shoulder. He holds her hand close to his heart and rests his cheek in her hair. They're so engrossed in each other, that the earth could open up underneath them, and they wouldn't care.

Before long, Rose looks up at him, his gaze full of love and admiration. He notices that the light has come back into her eyes, and it feels as if they've gone back in time three years. Ever so slowly, he closes the gap between them, capturing her lips for a soft, lingering kiss. She tastes bittersweet, from the wine, as does he. The Doctor wishes absently that he could lose himself in her forever, and rather than ending their embrace after a while, neither of them finds that they want to.

He wraps his arms around her, and she runs her fingernails down his back. He begins nibbling at her neck, causing her to writhe in ecstasy, and he growls softly with the sensation of her nails against his flesh. Soon, Rose is backing the Doctor towards her bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as she goes. Exposing the bare flesh of his chest, she begins dropping kisses down his torso, making him throw his head back and groan even more. She rips her top off, throwing it to the floor haphazardly. Seeing her like that, something suddenly breaks in him, and he spurs himself into action.

Kissing Rose again fiercely, he quickly slides his hands down her back, making short work of her skirt, then swiftly grabs her bum, and in one motion, picks her up and wraps her legs around his waist. She purrs happily into his mouth, kissing him as if her life depended on it.

They're in her room, now, not that either of them really notices. The Doctor backs her against the door, causing it to slam shut. He trails fevered kisses down her body, stopping just before her breasts, which makes her moan in protest. Backing them into the room further, however, his legs hit Rose's bed, and its as if someone just poured a bucket of cold water on them.

He stills, holding her, and their gazes lock. The room becomes deafeningly quiet, save for their ragged breathing. The Doctor closes his eyes then, touching his forehead to hers. He sighs achingly, letting Rose down to the floor, and she steps away, looking as though she's about to cry.

"Rose...I..." he starts, but can't think of anything to say. He feels like slamming his head into the wall.

"No, it's...it's alright. You need to lay down and get some rest, anyway. We both do," she lets him go, trying to look unaffected. She fails miserably.

Turning away, she looks around the room for something to wear, finds a dressing gown, and puts it on.

"I didn't mean...I'm sorry. It's not that I don't want...I mean, I do, I just...I don't know," he says, running his hands through his hair nervously. "It's just...not a good idea. Not until we both know the time is right," he tries desperately to explain, hoping she'll understand.

"Yeah...I know. Too soon. It's fine, really..." Rose waves him off, tightening the gown around her a bit more.

She's got to get him out of here so she can fall apart in peace. "Just go on and get some sleep. There's some sheets for the couch in the hall closet," she tells him, rigidly.

He nods penitently, and picking up his shirt, slowly makes his way out of her room. Just as the Doctor closes the door, he whispers, "goodnight, Rose."

If she does respond, he doesn't hear it.

And so, he's left with no choice but to make his bed...and lie in it.


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit from Rose's perspective, since that was slightly lacking earlier. One note though, I'm not stealing "John Noble" from any other authors. Of all the names I've seen used so far, that was the only one that just seemed right. A fair tribute to the most important woman in the whole of creation, and the best friend a Time Lord could ever have.

The door closes with just the barest hint of a click, and Rose finds herself alone once again. She wishes, absently, that she'd brought that bottle of wine home from the restaurant. That way, she could get pissed out of her mind and forget this entire evening ever happened.

How in the world did they go from feeling each other out to feeling each other up?!

Good Lord, she wants him. Rose wants him so badly, she can still feel the heat between her thighs. Can only just now tell that her heart has resumed its steady, even pace.

And yet, she's so angry at him right now, she wants to scream. Scream and beat something into a bloody pulp.

But Rose can't hate the Doctor any more than she hates herself.

She knows he was right to stop them before they crossed that line. They really aren't ready for it, not if she can bed one Doctor but still want the other.

It's not fair to either of them.

They've got so much to work through, and shagging each other's brains out is not going to solve anything.

If anything, Rose reasons, he'd probably wind up feeling guilty for taking advantage, and she'd resent him for not being her Doctor.

Still, she can't help but want to go to him, and her feet seem to move of their own accord over to the door. Her palm comes to rest on the smooth painted wood, and she wonders for a moment if he's there, doing the same. She can almost feel him through that thin barrier, fingertip to fingertip, so much like that day in the Tower. But this time, they're not separated for an eternity, just until she feels like opening the door. Her eyes close, and Rose sighs mournfully, running her hand down until she's gripping the doorknob.

Rose is holding it so tightly, that her knuckles are turning white. She wants to go out there, to face him. Talk to him. But she just doesn't have the strength.

After a few tense minutes, she finally lets go of the knob and turns around.

Rose strips off her gown and bra, then puts on the pair of sweat pants and t-shirt from earlier. Flipping the light off, she falls into bed with a very unladylike thump, burying her face in a pillow to stifle her sobs from prying ears.

A Time Lord, even half-human, has better hearing that most, though. It's muffled, but the Doctor knows Rose is crying.

He goes over to the closet, taking out a sheet and pillow, and chances a glance at her door. He wants very much to go to her. To make sure she's alright. But he knows that intruding would only make things worse. They haven't had a moment apart since the Crucible, and it seems to him that some separation might actually be a good idea right about now.

He can tell that things between them are coming to a head, their desire for each other overruling their common sense, so perhaps a night's sleep and the morning light will bring them fresh perspective.

Doesn't make him feel like any less of a tosser, though.

Turning away, his heart heavy, the Doctor lays the sheet and pillow out on the couch, then toes off his trainers and socks. Settling into his makeshift bed, he turns off the table lamp, plunging the room into a still darkness, illuminated only by thin slivers of moonlight.

The Doctor tries every possible way to make himself comfortable, but nothing seems to work. Fatigue lays like a dead weight on his body, but his mind, he finds, is working on overdrive. Adjusting to a daily sleep regimen isn't the easiest thing in the world for someone who can normally go without rest for days on end.

But that's not the problem.

He needs Rose. Her warmth. Her touch. Having her in his arms was the only reason he fell asleep so quickly the night before. She's in the next room, but he misses her already. Without her, the loneliness is overwhelming.

Fortunately, the human body can take only so much. After staring blankly at the wall, and he's not even sure for how long, the Doctor sits up, tiredly running his hands down his face. He glances over at the bookcase and decides that maybe reading something will help him to doze. Walking over, however, he spots Rose's discarded top in the corner and quickly grabs it up. He inhales its scent, a mirror of Rose in every way, and for the moment, feels just a little bit of that lost comfort. Taking it with him to the couch, the Doctor settles back in, clutching the small piece of material close to his heart.

Not surprisingly, minutes later, he's out like a light.

Rose is the first to wake when her phone rings at seven o'clock in the morning. Rather than answering, though, she lets the machine pick it up first. Screening her calls was an old habit she picked up years ago to keep tabloid reporters and talk show hosts off her back.

When Jackie's voice blares through her haze of semi-consciousness with, "Rose, it's me! Pick up, sweetheart! Unless you two are...well, maybe I'd better--"

She picks up the phone then, abruptly cutting her mother off.

"Mum, he's on the couch. What is it?" she asks, mildly annoyed, her face still half-buried in the pillow.

"Well, excuse me for trying to be considerate! Just thought the pair of ya might want to stop by for a cuppa. Jake's supposed to be by after a bit. I know he'd love to see you," Jackie kindly informs her.

Sure. To see Jake. Rose can see through that excuse in a flat second. She knows her mother's motives aren't entirely pure.

It's obvious Jackie wants the dish on the Doctor, but after last night, Rose isn't all that inclined to oblige.

But seeing as it is Jake...she supposes she can indulge her Mum just a little.

"I think we can do that, yeah," Rose replies, getting up out of bed. "Just give me a little while. Say about ten-ish? That'll give us enough time to get some shopping done," she explains.

"Sure. Just don't blow the bank. He's not worth that much," Jackie responds cheekily.

"Oh, shut up. I'll see you later, Mum. Love ya," Rose says sweetly.

"Love you too, sweetheart. Bye," she finishes and hangs up.

Rose debates going back to sleep but decides that it's a lost cause. She's well and truly awake now.

Making quick use of the loo, she walks straight through the living room without even so much as a glance in the Doctor's general direction. Rose heads to the kitchen and busies herself with the business of making tea. Instead of trying to salvage last night's pot, she dumps it and starts a fresh one. Grabbing the unused cups from last night, she tosses them in the sink, then roots around in the fridge for some bread to toast. There's a couple of slices still left, and pulling them out with some marmalade, Rose realizes she's in sore need of some groceries. Ever since the walls thinned enough to suddenly allow the dimension cannon to work last year, food shopping hasn't been terribly high on her to-do list. In fact, other than the few occasions her Mum actually brings food over, she can't remember the last time she actually cooked in this place.

Setting some dishes on the table, Rose allows her gaze to fall upon the Doctor fleetingly. She's only intending to look for a moment, to see that he's alright, yet for some reason, she can't seem to tear her eyes away from him.

He's snuggled into the sofa, but not looking at all that comfortable with his knees sticking out and feet dangling from under the covers. Apparently, the couch is just too compact for his tall frame. His breathing is calm, slow. Meaning that the Doctor is still, very much, asleep.

Having never been privy to him taking so much as a cat nap, Rose muses that it's the cutest thing she's ever seen.

Just then, the teapot whistles for attention, bringing her out of that short-lived reverie. She quickly removes it from the stove and pours two cups full. Rose prepares it as she remembers he likes it, (if the Doctor's tastes have changed, he surely hasn't mentioned so) and pads on over to the sofa. She sets them down on the coffee table and takes a spot on the floor beside him.

Rose cautiously extends a hand to push a few stay locks of hair away from the Doctor's face. She's reminded of how much she's missed running her fingers through that hair. The way its softness felt to her touch. He doesn't stir, and for that, she's immensely grateful. He adjusts himself to lay on his back, and Rose pulls the bed sheet up to give him a bit more cover.

Looking at the Doctor now, she wonders if they'll ever be able to move past the wall dividing them. Last night seemed to have so much promise, but it was a mistake to take things as far as they did. A maddening situation, to be sure, but the Doctor was right.

They aren't ready.

He must somehow sense her presence, though, because the Doctor chooses that very moment to come awake. He opens his eyes and blinks a bit at the sunlight shining through the windows.

"Hi," she says with a warm smile.

"Hello," he replies, grinning lazily, and picks himself up. "What are you doing down there?"

"Just having a sit," Rose tells him simply, not wanting to elaborate further. "Brought you a cuppa," she says, handing him the tea.

"Oh, cheers. That's lovely," the Doctor thanks her, taking a sip.

Feeling the call, though, he puts the cup down and tells her, "back in a tick," dropping a kiss on her nose as he heads into the loo.

When the Doctor returns, Rose is munching at the table while using the phone. She's laid everything out so that he can pick and choose what he wants.

He plates some toast and spreads on a thick coating of marmalade before sitting down to enjoy his breakfast.

Sipping his tea, he watches as Rose listens to something on the phone. She stops every so often to dial a number, but says nothing.

Curiosity gets the better of him, and the Doctor asks, "everything alright?"

Only realizing he's talking to her after another minute or so, she replies, "what? Oh...yeah. Sorry," and hangs up the phone. "I was just ringing up my messages. If I forget, then the box fills up and...explodes or something."

"Well, we can't have that, now can we?" he says, cheerfully. Internally, though, the Doctor's worried at why Rose isn't saying anything to him about last night. Not a word or utterance. Nor an angry look or even a slap across the face.

Even a tirade would be better than her silence.

She shakes her head and says, "Nope. So...Mum called a little while ago, and she wants us to come by for tea."

"Aren't we supposed to be going to the shops? the Doctor asks, deciding that if Rose doesn't seem angry, he's not going to force the issue.

"Yes, and we will be. I told her to expect us around ten," she explains.

The Doctor isn't too keen on paying a visit to the Tyler house. He and Pete didn't exactly get off on the right foot, and he's really in no mood to deal with Jackie.

"Oh, don't even try the pouty lips with me. Jake's stopping over for a bit, and I'd very much like to see him. Besides, Dad's got your papers ready for looking over anyway," Rose lets him know flat out.

"I suppose, if we must," he gives in, resting his chin in his hands. "And I'll have you know, Time Lords do not pout." the Doctors adds, indignantly.

"Right," Rose replies with a knowing grin. "Best if we leave early, to avoid the crowds," she says, getting up from the table and disposing of the dishes in the sink.

"Go on and get cleaned up. I'll wait for you."

As Rose busies herself with tidying up, the Doctor heads for the bedroom. Along the way, he recovers his shirt from where it had been tossed earlier and slips it on. He makes his way to the loo and gives himself a good once-over in the mirror.

It's still him. The Doctor. The Time Lord. The man. This human body wears its age well, but he can still feel the weight of mortality pressing down upon him. A tiny wrinkle here and stray gray hair there attest to that. His muscles ache from trying to fit on the too-small couch, but it's a good hurt, that comes from being alive. What he does notice, more than anything, is that his hair is completely out of wack, matted on one side from the way he was sleeping.

That simply won't do.

Grabbing a comb, he does his best to make himself look decently acceptable. That doesn't seem to work too terribly well, so he roots around in her cabinets for some kind of styling product. He finds some hair gel and applies a bit, fiddling with it for a minute until he gets it just right. While doing that, its then that the Doctor notices he's in dire need of a shave.

Two days worth of stubble is not a good look.

But there's nothing around for him to use. And he's certainly not going to use anything that's been on Rose's legs.

The Doctor's no masochist, and he quite likes his face the way it is, thank you very much.

There's also only one toothbrush. Oh well...mouthwash will just have to be an acceptable substitute, he muses.

"Mental note: buy toiletries...immediately," he says to no one in particular.

Looking at himself one last time, the Doctor contemplates on Rose. He's fairly certain she's hiding behind a very well-fortified emotional brick wall. Behind that loving smile lies a dam just waiting to break. But she wants to talk; he knows she does. And by Rassilon, they're going to. The Doctor resolves to make sure of it.

Feeling satisfied, he goes back into the living room and sits down to put on his socks and trainers. Rose joins him then, purse in tow.

"Ready?" she asks, eagerly.

"Quite. Shall we?" he replies, gesturing towards the front door.

Twenty minutes later, they arrive at a large shopping plaza. Parking quickly, she and the Doctor then head to the shops. When they enter the first one, however, the Doctor about stops in his tracks.

It's Henrick's. Same as it was all those years ago.

But it can't be...

"I know," Rose states with a bit of wonder, having noticed the Doctor's shocked expression. "I was as suprised as you when I found out that this place was still here. Had to come see it for myself, to be sure. No rubber aliens or animated shop window dummies, you'll be happy to know."

"Obviously. I just never thought..." but his voice trails off as she takes his hand and shows him around.

"I don't think either of us will ever forget that night. But hey, let's focus, yeah? Clothes?" Rose reminds him, gracefully changing topics.

"Clothes. Yes," he agrees, and they continue on their way.

Within two hours' time, Rose and the Doctor return to the car loaded down with shopping bags.

Dropping everything in the trunk with an exasperated sigh, she muses that its been the longest two hours of her life.

At first, he refused to consider looking at anything but suits. And trainers. Definitely trainers. It took almost half an hour for her to convince him to at least try on a pair of jeans. He complained that they didn't fit properly. Getting him to agree on shirts was even worse. The Doctor couldn't make up his mind on anything.

After another hour of useless wandering, in which he'd only managed to pick out a few suits and a couple pairs of shoes, Rose had just about enough. They were going to run late to her Mum's at the rate they were going, so she issued him an ultimatum: either pick something or she would pick for him.

That little bit managed to set him straight.

As a result, he finally managed to decide on some fairly posh casual wear. And a really great pair of sunglasses that he just couldn't turn down because they looked so much like his specs (which Rose promised she'd try and get for him and soon as he had a proper eye exam).

The last stop was for more...personal items. Fortunately for Rose, the Doctor was more than willing to do that shopping on his own. She wasn't surprised at all to see him inspecting each and every hair care item diligently until he'd found exactly what he was looking for.

By the time they'd reached the car, the Doctor was a completely different man. Unrecognizable if you didn't know him better. He was wearing a pair of jeans that Rose had picked out, (because they hugged him in all the right places) a casual, violet-purple colored button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and of course, black trainers. And the sunglasses.

Somewhere along the way, he'd found the time to shave. As soon as the Doctor had a new razor in hand, he'd made a beeline for the nearest loo, telling Rose that he wasn't about to show up on her Mum's doorstep looking like a bum.

Making their way over to her Mum's, Rose can't help but sneak a few sidelong glances at him.

It's surreal to see the Doctor looking so...relaxed. And in regular clothes, no less.

'Good Lord, he's absolutely gorgeous!' she giddily muses to herself. 'Jake's gonna be so jealous....'

Rose is coming to realize, with some amazement, that although he's not quite the man she remembers, she's very much enjoying the one he's becoming.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took forever to write! Loads of important stuff!

Once they make it to the freeway, the Doctor becomes restless. He can sense Rose's eyes on him every so often, which makes him feel very self-conscious. He wonders, absently, if he shouldn't have just stuck to wearing the pinstripes. At least that, she was used to. This image, with these new clothes, it seems so...opposite. But then, Rose is the one who helped him pick out the stuff, yeah? Obviously, that must mean she thinks they suit him. Or maybe she's simply trying to help him blend in with the rest of humanity. It's all so confusing.

Well, isn't that wizard?

So, Rose likes the new look, but is put off by it at the same time? Talk about being a winner at a losing game....

Needing something to keep him occupied, the Doctor starts fiddling with the buttons and knobs on the car's console. He's interested in figuring out what each one's purpose is. He starts with the air conditioning controls, alternating between the extremes of both heat and cold.

Wondering what the hell he's doing to her car, Rose bats his hand away and says, "Oi! Save the tinkering for Torchwood! Besides, that's just air conditioning. I know you can think of more interesting things than that to mess with."

"Sorry. I was just...I don't know what I was doing. Sorry," he replies distantly, sniffing and turning away to look out the window. His features are tight with frustration...and a touch of sorrow.

Rose notices, and with some regret, turns her attention back to the road. If it were possible, she'd kick her own ass.

The Doctor is just doing what comes naturally for him: exploring something new. She knows better than anyone his inability to idle, the thirst for knowledge that always keeps him moving. So why is she treating him like a disobedient ten-year old?

Rose is being a right shrew, and she knows it.

Giving his hand a comforting squeeze, she confesses, " Hey...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. How about trying the radio, then? Find us something nice to listen to? It's too quiet in here, anyway."

He looks to her then, eyes low, but Rose can see the barest hint of a smile ghost his face. The Doctor's still a bit hurt, but he'll be alright. He leans forward and begins scrolling through the channels until he comes across a station playing Heart's 'Magic Man'. He knows this song well. Rose always said she loved it because the words reminded her of when they first started traveling together. She'd described it as being, 'so very him'.

Searching for the volume button, the Doctor hits what he thinks is the correct one, but rather than increasing the sound, he instead causes the convertible roof to collapse back, engulfing them in the bright morning sunshine and cool autumn breeze.

"Oh, yes...just like the old days! Remember? Rocking and rolling through time and space!" he sits back and laughs, his entire face lit up by that ten-thousand megawatt manic grin she loves so much.

Rose laughs, too, despite herself. As the wind whips through her hair and the music carries them on, she realizes, unbelievably, that she's enjoying herself for the first time in ages.

Time passes amazingly quickly, and before they know it, they've arrived at the mansion. Rose parks in the drive, and they walk on up, letting themselves in with her key. Passing through the long entryway, Rose calls out, "Mum! It's me! We're here!"

"In the kitchen, sweetheart!" Jackie yells back. Rose just catches the aroma of her mother's to-die-for herbal tea and eagerly tugs the Doctor onward.

Rounding the corner at the breakfast nook, she almost collides with a six-foot tall wall of dark denim. Quickly collecting herself, Rose looks up to see--

"Jake! Blimey, it's good to see you!" she shrieks and throws her arms around him.

"Feelin's mutual, beautiful!" He greets her with a face-splitting smile and gathers her up into a huge hug.

Letting Rose down, its then that he takes notice of the man waiting behind her.

"Doctor...long time no see," Jake grins warmly and extends his hand.

"Well...you know me. Always busy. How've you been Jake?" the Doctor smiles and shakes his hand in return.

"Not too bad, I'd say. Torchwood's been pretty good to me so far," he replies, surreptitiously glancing between the Time Lord and his companion to make sure that nothing is out of sorts. When there doesn't seem to be, Jake continues, gesturing toward the kitchen, "c'mon, then. You know it's not safe to keep a Tyler woman waiting."

As they begin to make their way, Jake stops for a moment, turns to the Doctor and states coyly, "by the way...love the new look."

The Doctor grins, and after another corner, they enter the kitchen. Jackie's at the stove, busying herself with preparing the tea. Like Rose, she never could stand having someone in service to her, and as a result, she only employed a private cook if Pete was having a dinner party or special function. Hearing them shuffling in, Jackie turns around and beams at her daughter.

"Morning, love!" Jackie saunters over and gives Rose a kiss on the cheek. She glances at the Doctor for a moment and then says to her daughter, "brought one of your friends along, did ya? 'Cos, if he's one of yours Jake, I've gotta tell ya, your taste is definitely improving. He's a pretty one, that's for sure!"

Rose looks at her mother, dumbfounded, but Jackie continues on, unaware. "Speaking of...Rose, where's the Doctor? Please don't tell me you went and lost him in the bleedin' mall!"

Jake's trying desperately not to burst, while the Doctor just stands there, milking the misunderstanding for all it's worth.

"Mum!" Rose yelps, gesturing at the Time Lord, "what in the world are you going on about? This is the Doctor!"

"What?" her Mum asks, confused.

The Doctor takes down his shades, grins, and says cheerily, "Yep! It's me. Hello, Jackie!"

She looks, completely stunned, from the Doctor to Rose and back. She can't believe what she's seeing.

"Oh. My. God! You don't even look like...you! I never thought I'd see the day! And you let me think...?" Jackie's face turns an impressive shade of red and she smacks him on the arm. To Rose she adds, "nice work, though. Very posh."

Unable to hold back any longer, Jake finally erupts into a fit of laughter, which quickly becomes infectious.

Moments later, Pete arrives with a thick manila envelope in hand. Feeling a bit out of the loop of their joke, he clears his throat to get everyone's attention.

"Morning, sweetheart," he smiles, giving Rose a hug. If Pete notices the Doctor's change in appearance, he doesn't mention it.

"Hi, Dad," she hugs him back, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Wisely, the Doctor keeps quiet and waits to be acknowledged.

"Doctor," Pete turns to him, and the two share a somewhat stiff handshake. They're both very well aware of the boundaries they've set for each other.

"Pete," the Doctor tries to sound as friendly as possible, for Rose's benefit. "How goes it?"

"Well, it took a bit of doing, but we managed to get everything in order for you," Pete explains, as personable as he can be. "Why don't you join me in my office, and we'll go over it? There's something I wanted to discuss with you, anyway."

"Sounds good to me. Rose..." the Doctor looks to her to be sure it's alright.

"Oh, go on. With the two of you out of the way, us girls can have a proper chat," she says, with a mischievous grin directed at her Mum and Jake.

"Right then," he agrees, with a knowing look. If only Jack were here, the Doctor muses, as he gives her a quick peck on the cheek before heading off with Pete.

As soon as they're out of earshot, Jackie starts in with, "so...out with it! I want to know what happened last night!"

"You really know how to get right to the point, don't you?" Rose quips, rustling up a bar stool and taking a seat. Jake does the same.

Jackie goes back to pouring tea and hands over a few cups. "Well...I am a mother, after all. Don't I have a right to be concerned?"

"Oh, bollocks! You just want all the sordid details of my sex life! As if you don't get enough from those wretched bodice-rippers you simply can't live without! Honestly, isn't Dad enough for you?" She pauses for a moment, a horrified look on her face, "wait...don't answer that. Too much information."

"Fine. Don't tell me. But I can see it written all over your face. Something did happen last night, and you can't deny it," Jackie states, emphatically.

"Hold on, now. If Rose doesn't want to talk about it, that's her business, Jackie. All I care about is that she's alright," Jake interjects, laying a hand on Rose's arm in silent support.

"No, Jake, it's fine. Really," she assures him, taking a sip of her tea. "We almost did cross that line, Mum. But the Doctor put a stop to it. Good thing, too, because we would've been making a huge mistake," Rose explains, acting like it's no big deal.

Jackie's not buying it, though. Neither is Jake.

"Well, that just speaks volumes," Jake declares.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rose asks, praying he won't take it any further.

"He backed off. Not you. Meaning...you didn't want it to stop. Don't tell me you weren't boiling over that. I would love to have been a fly on the wall for that row," Jake elaborates while munching on some tea biscuits.

"Is that true, Rose? You and the Doctor have a fight last night?" Jackie asks, clearly concerned.

"No, Mum. It wasn't like that. There was no row. I sent him off to the couch and we both went to sleep. End of story," Rose answers, a little too quickly.

"Good Lord, it's worse than I thought..." Jackie rolls her eyes in exasperation.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Tyler house....

Pete leads the Doctor towards his office, on the opposite end of the sizable first floor. In contrast to Rose's place, her father's workspace is immaculately neat. Whether that's the maid's work or Tyler's own, he can't say, but it's more than obvious that Rose did not inherit his cleaning skills. Even though the usual trappings of a family man are scattered about--pictures and knickknacks--one can tell that the business holds just as much importance in Pete's life.

He takes a seat behind a fairly good-sized, dark brown oak desk, and motions for the Doctor to have a seat, as well.

"Okay," he begins, without preamble, "this is gonna be a lot to go over, so you had better listen up." Pete then produces the envelope and takes out a rather thick file folder. He places it on the desk and flips it open, taking the first sheet of paper off the top.

He slides it over to the Doctor and says, "first things first. Birth certificate."

The Doctor picks it up and starts to read, but pauses at his 'name'. Pain and regret, still fresh, clutch at his chest and wrap around his heart like a vise.

"John...Noble? Where did you come up with that?" the Doctor asks, her voice echoing in the back of his mind. The 'DoctorDonna', his one true sister.

"Well, you were already using John, so we just decided to keep it and concentrate on last names. It took a good long while to find one that didn't belong to a living person, and it seemed like a pretty good choice at the time," Pete tells him. "Don't tell me you don't like it. You have no idea how many favors I had to call in to get this done on such short notice. I can't just go back and--"

But the Doctor stops him short. "No. No...it's fine. I just...I had a friend by that name. She's gone now. Caught me by surprise, is all," he concedes, willing the sadness away to keep Pete from probing any further.

He continues perusing the document, noting that he's listed as being thirty-five years of age and having been born in Chelsea.

"Thirty-five, eh? I guess that's not too bad," the Doctor wonders, unsure.

"You're surprisingly self-conscious for someone who's got nine centuries under his belt," Pete responds with a chuckle.

"It's not about me," he replies, matter-of-factly. "It's Rose. She was so young when we met. Anyone who didn't know us would've thought our relationship was completely inappropriate. Even I did...sometimes. Humans always seem to think that age is so important in terms of relationships. I've never understood that. Probably because my people had so much time, while you all have so little."

"You're a part of this race, too, you know. Don't count yourself separate," Pete reminds him, "and anyway, I don't think Rose has ever cared about age. She doesn't love a number, Doctor. She loves you."

"Sorry...old habits. It'll take some getting used to, remembering that. And, I know she loves me. Believe me, I do. I just don't want anyone to think badly of her because of me," the Doctor confesses, honestly.

"She won't be. Rose has never cared about what other people think of her. Even with all the media attention that comes with being a Tyler. And you shouldn't care, either. Same as me and Jacks. You love each other, and that's all that matters," Pete advises, empathizing completely.

"Well said, Pete Tyler. And quite right, too," the Doctor smiles, appreciatively.

"Back to it, then?" Pete asks, and the Doctor nods, concurring. "Okay...driver's license and social security card. Passport with expired work visa. Debit and credit cards, with banking information. Just so you know, I took the liberty of wiring some disposable cash into your account for the time being. You can access it any cash point."

The Doctor looks over everything with detailed precision...until Pete mentions the money. That, he really doesn't want to hear. It's bad enough having to live off of Rose, but her family, too? Feeling like a slothful prick, he sinks down in his chair a bit more, wishing suddenly that the Satan Pit would open up in the floor and suck him down into it's bottomless depths.

Pete notices his discomfort without even having to look. It's a 'man' thing.

"Hey...if it makes you feel any better, at least you won't need Rose to pay your way anymore. And it's really only temporary," he tries to assure him.

"I don't like the idea of anyone having to support me!" the Doctor lashes out, a little more upset than he realized. "I mean...I'm not like that. I've always been able to take care of myself. No one should have to care for me...much less you or Rose. I feel like an absolute louse!"

Leaning forward a bit, as if the conversation has become some kind of secret, Pete tells him, "Look, man to man...I understand. I do. But until you find work, you have to live off of something." He sits back in his chair, scrutinizing the Doctor a bit before continuing, "although...I could remedy that problem. If you're amenable?"

"Do tell," the Doctor answers eagerly, sitting up straight.

"Alright. Now, I know you have some...issues with Torchwood. It was their stupidity that was responsible for tearing you and Rose apart in the first place. So, I'll entirely understand if you turn down the offer," Pete starts in, pausing for a moment to gauge the Doctor's reaction.

The Doctor is silent for a moment, pondering the possibilities. In the end, curiosity overwhelms him and he replies, "go on."

"You must know that Torchwood would highly benefit from having someone of your expertise in our employ. After all, you're a veritable encyclopedia of alien knowledge. I can't say for sure that you'd be working alongside Rose, but we have more than enough projects to pique your interest. You'll always have something to do. And, we have a first-rate benefit package. Believe me, Doctor, we take care of our own," Pete explains.

"I can find a 'project' anywhere, thanks," the Doctor says, eyes taking a hard edge. "That's not the point. All you lot ever cared about was harvesting technology and blowing things up. You've never even tried to make peace with an alien race, to actually learn something from each other. It's all about defending the Earth and exterminating the threat, am I right? Keep going down that road, and the only thing you'll get for it is watching your entire world die...burning before your eyes. Ask Rose. She knows. You can tell me then whether or not it's worth the cost."

"Hang on, now! You forget, I know what the old regime was like. I was there, fighting right beside you. What exists now is not that Torchwood. You have Rose to thank for that." Seeing the confused look on the Doctor's face, Pete elaborates, "when I first took control of Torchwood, I was completely out of my depth. Cybermen were one thing, but aliens...that was well beyond my ability. When Rose came along, she was indispensable. No one had the kind of experience that she'd acquired travelling with you. Rose built this Torchwood, Doctor. She designed it to reflect what you always loved most about humanity--our potential to be more than what we are. She did all of this for you. To make you proud of her. Of us. We're not here to destroy or make war, Doctor. We want peace. Our goal has always been to give the human race the means and the drive to take our place amongst the stars. Rose knew that was your greatest hope for us, and she's done everything in her power to see it through."

The Doctor just sits there, at a complete loss for words. He'd no idea that Rose had achieved so much, and in his name. His heart warms at the thought.

"I didn't..." he hesitates, trying to think of the right thing to say. "I would've been proud of Rose no matter what she chose to do. I always had faith in her. And for me, that's saying a lot. Maybe I did misjudge you. But you can't make me pick up a gun. I won't."

"I'm not forcing you to do anything, Doctor. Like I said, we have dozens of research projects that you can be involved in and an entire vault full of alien tech that you can fool around with to your heart's content. No weapons required," Pete keeps on, trying his best to be convincing. "The decision is yours."

"Well...I suppose I can give it a go. For right now, anyway. After all, if it doesn't work out, I can always leave, yes?" he queries, wanting this on his own terms.

"Of course. That's your prerogative, Doctor. I take it that's a yes?" the elder Tyler inquires keenly.

"Yes," the Doctor answers, betraying nothing about what he's really thinking.

"Right. Then let's get started, shall we?" Pete says, pulling a thick binder from the bottom drawer of his desk. "This is gonna take a while..."

Moments later, back in the kitchen....

"And you didn't say anything?! Not one word? Just let it go like nothing happened?" Jackie asks, disbelieving.

"Mum, there wasn't anything to say! We both did what we thought was best," Rose states emphatically, annoyed with Jackie's prodding.

"By 'best', I suppose that means...wait a second, let me think about this," she pauses to put a finger to her temple, like some kind of psychic, "the Doctor sat in the dark for an hour, staring at the living room wall, while you laid in bed, balling your eyes out."

"Will you just shut it, Mum!" Rose spits back.

"No, I will not shut it! I'm your mother, and I won't have you speak to me like that!" Jackie throws back, reaching her boiling point.

"I...I'm sorry, Mum. It's just...I feel like I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. They're both the same, and yet, they're not. This one...he makes me want him as badly as the other. That's why I was so bloody angry last night. My heart knows that it shouldn't matter, that I should just let go, but my mind refuses to believe. I keep thinking about how hard I worked to find a way back because I loved him so much. Then this double comes along, and I feel like I'm betraying what we had just by being with him." Rose tries to explain, laying her head in her arms.

"Rose...did you think all of your problems were going to be solved with a good shag? Sweetheart, that's not closure; that's denial. Take it from me, I know what it's like to have what you've always wanted and yet, be scared to death of it at the same time. If you think I was able to just pick up where your father and I left off with this Pete, then you had best think again. Our memories and experiences were very different. We had so much to learn before we could be completely comfortable with each other. But it did come. Even though he's not entirely the Pete that I remember, I wouldn't trade this second chance with him for anything.

But here you are, with a perfect copy of the man you love. The same feelings, same memories. Same everything. You don't have to go through the business of getting to know each other again, of building trust. It's already there. And this Doctor can do the one thing that yours can't: he can give you forever. But you're taking it for granted. Do you know how many women would gladly take your place in an instant to know that kind of love? That kind of devotion? That man sacrificed everything by choosing a life with you. His universe, his home, and most importantly, his freedom. The Doctor can't travel the stars anymore, but he allowed himself to be grounded...for you. Don't you think the man deserves a break? After all, he's still learning how to be human for Christ's sake! That alone should merit some bloody sympathy!" her Mum says, with more directness than Rose realized she was capable of.

Jake's pretty floored too, but knows it not really his place to say anything.

"Well...when you put it like that, you make me sound like a total shit," Rose replies, crossly.

"The way you've been acting the last few days, some people would agree with you on that," Jake finally chimes in.

"Oh, sod off, nancy boy!" Rose shoves at him, playfully. Looking back at her mother, she continues, "I suppose you're right, though. I have been terribly awful to him since we got back. He doesn't deserve that at all. I guess I'm just having a hard time dealing..." she trails off, growing distant all of a sudden.

"When it gets easier, will you let me know?" Jake adds, thoughtfully. They both know what he's referring to. "When Ricky died, I was so full of anger. And it wasn't even at Mickey for being here. It was at Ricky, for thinking he could leave me behind. As if it wouldn't matter to me he was gone. Mickey couldn't possibly replace him, but he didn't try to, either. It took time, sure, but eventually, we became best mates. And now he's gone, too. Did you think you were the only one who lost someone? Don't be so self-centered, Rose. It doesn't become you."

Rose is taken aback by Jake's forwardness and doesn't quite know how to respond.

She manages to ask, forlornly, "did you know what Mickey was planning to do?"

"Not right off, no. But he made the signs pretty evident after his Gran died. Even more so after the dimension cannon started to work. He said that, no matter what, it was gonna be a one-way trip for him. He knew your future was with the Doctor, that it was time for him to move on and find his own. That's why he gave me the key to his flat before he left. Told me to keep what I wanted and sell the rest. But, it's not as easy as that, you know," Jake tells her, holding the key in his hand like a coveted keepsake.

"Yeah," she nods in understanding. "How do you just erase someone's life? Like they never even existed?" Rose asks, taking a chain from around her neck and lightly running her fingers across the small silver key it holds. "Some part of them always stays with you, no matter their distance."

"Listen...I'm goin' over to Mickey's around six or so. If you want to stop over, that's fine by me. I could definitely use the help," he offers, sweetly.

"You know what, I think I might just do that. But don't go throwing anything away, yeah? There's some things that I want to...take with me. Special things...between Mickey and I," she agrees, with a soft smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"Done. Is...erm...the Doctor gonna be comin' with you?" Jake asks, cautiously.

"I would imagine so. I mean, why not? He and Mickey have got history, too, you know," she reminds him, a bit more defensive than necessary.

"Hey, you don't have to justify anything to me. Who are you trying to convince?" he rebuffs her, putting his hands up placatingly.

"No one, I guess. Sorry," she replies, then gesturing towards the other end of the house, adds, "you don't suppose Dad's giving the Doctor the third degree back there, or something?"

Jake replies, morosely, "after all the posturing earlier, you should be lucky they're not trying to kill each other..."


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever since seeing the death of Ten...well...I've just been truly heartbroken, but inspired at the same time. Ironic, that? This work is now lovingly dedicated to the brilliant David Tennant and Billie Piper, and in memory of the Tenth Doctor, who have touched all our hearts these last four years.

It's a good forty-five minutes later when Pete and the Doctor finally emerge from their cloister. When they come around the corner from the hallway and enter the kitchen, Rose is relieved to see that they're both still in one piece.

She'd some idea what they were "discussing" back there, and the thought that the two of them might be performing some kind of territorial 'man dance' over her was not only disconcerting, but downright irritating.

Fortunately, Rose is saved from further worry as she hears the last strains of their conversation filter into the room.

“…and she comes up with Harvey Wallbanger! From ’something salty’! At least she got the shock part right! You should’ve seen Agatha’s face! Priceless!” the Doctor rattles on, in all his manic glory.

“I still can’t believe that you actually met her! And solved a mystery with her as well…lucky sod!” Pete replies, awestruck.

As they enter the kitchen proper, the Doctor‘s gob continues to work overtime, “well…it wasn’t like I didn’t have help, mind. Donna was a real spitfire, she was! Absolutely bri--” but he stops short. Everyone has turned their attention to the two of them, but the only person the Doctor sees is Rose. Suddenly, he’s unsure if he should finish what he was going to say.

It’s easy to trade old war stories with Pete--no strings attached--but Rose…

He doesn’t want to hurt her by dredging up the…other’s past. He’s not sure that she’s ready for that yet.

Unfortunately, his mouth has already gotten the better of him, so rather than look like a complete plum, he sputters out, “eh…she was lovely. Just…really great. It was a nice time.”

The Doctor runs a hand through his hair, and old but enduring habit, and Rose gives him a warm, understanding smile. But it doesn’t reach her eyes. She knows he’s backpedaling, and yet, part of her is grateful for it. On the one hand, it’s nice to finally see the Doctor be able to reminisce, to let the memories come--without the overwhelming pain that always seemed follow in their wake.

But on the other--and this is probably pure selfishness on her part--she just can’t bear the thought of listening to him relive that part of his life. It seems, on the surface, to have been a happy time for him…in a place where she so obviously did not belong. Rose’s heart breaks just a little at the thought that the Doctor appeared to have moved on without her.

But then, she remembers the look on his face when he saw her at the end of that battle-torn London street…and realizes that when it comes to the Doctor, nothing is ever simple.

The room becomes quiet--deafeningly so. Bless Pete for having enough foresight to pick up on their silent exchange, clearing his throat just then to break the awkwardness of the moment.

“Yes…well…” he turns to the Doctor, extending a friendly hand, “it was good to have you over, mate. I’m glad we had this chance to talk. Hopefully, everything will work out, yeah?”

Realizing that Pete has just given him an out to a less-than-comfortable situation, the Doctor quickly responds with a handshake and a thoughtful smile.

“Oh, you know…we’ll see how it goes. But still…thank you, Pete. For everything,” he replies sincerely, just as Rose starts to get up from her bar stool and grab for her purse.

She can sense that this whole situation is starting to become uncomfortable again, especially for the Doctor. He’s not used to dealing with the concepts of ’family’ and ‘domestic’. She knows he’ll bolt, or worse, close off, if he feels like he’s being backed into a corner.

He hasn’t even dealt with ’forever’…

And when did this room suddenly become so stifling? Claustrophobia is creeping up on her again, and Rose knows that she’s just got to get out of the house. Her discomfort does not go unnoticed by the Doctor.

He knows her too well.

“Right then,” she says, with more haste than she’d intended, “Mum…Dad…I think we’re gonna get going, yeah? I’ve still got loads of shopping to do at the grocery, considering that I haven’t done in just short of…well…seems like forever. Not to mention that I’ve still got to get himself,” and Rose gestures in Doctor’s general direction just then, “and his things settled in.” She’s hoping against hope that Jackie won’t see through the excuses and make them stay any longer.

“Oh, but he hasn’t even tried my special tea yet, love! A few more minutes won’t kill ya, will it?” Jackie pleads with those sympathetic ’mom’ eyes that Rose never could resist--even now.

“Well…alright. A few more minutes; just so he can have a cup of your tea,” she acquiesces with a sigh.

While Jackie is busy settling the Doctor with a cup of tea, Rose gives him an apologetic look and mouths ’sorry’ as she sits back down. He returns it with a warm, understanding smile. Walking around to the other side of the bar, he plops right down next to her, and takes her hand in his, twining their fingers together, and dropping a feather-light kiss in her hair.

It’s a simple gesture, but in it, Rose can see how much she truly does mean to him.

Twenty minutes, and a cup of tea later, and they’re on their way out the door. Rose gives her mum a hug, promising that they’ll stop by for dinner later on in the week. After all, Jackie Tyler would never settle for anything less. The Doctor just barely manages to evade said woman’s grasp by cornering Jake and Pete for a handshake.

Once her parents have gone back into the house, and Jake’s already made his way over to his own car, Rose calls out, “hey! Six o’clock, yeah?”

“Right! I’ll be waitin’ there for ya. And bring some boxes! Probably gonna need ‘em!” Jake answers back with a wave and smile as he drives off.

Settling back in the driver’s seat, Rose turns the engine over and heads out. They drive in silence for a little while, just enjoying the scenery and each other.

After some time, though, the Doctor chimes in, “so…back to the flat, I take it?”

“Yes, but not until we stop at the grocer’s first. I’m sorely lacking on food at the moment, which I’m sure you’ve already noticed,” she tells him while pulling onto the motorway.

“Actually, come to think of it, I’ve not really shopped for food in…well…months. Just never seemed to get around to it. Too busy, I suppose,” Rose babbles on; yet another way he’s managed to rub off on her.

He looks fondly upon her as she goes on, noticing not for the first time just how much like him she’s become. There was a time when he would’ve thought that was a horrible prospect, but in being with her now, he’s beginning to see that Rose has finally come into her own as a woman, with fierce independence and tremendous inner strength, for all the heartache she’s had to endure.

She’s become so much more than the young shop girl he so fondly remembers.

So long ago now…

But he showed her the stars; a better way to live her life, and although she, without a doubt, saved him in ways that he could not even begin to express, he liked to think that he managed to save her just a little bit, too.

By the time they arrive back at the flat, it’s nearly half one. She hadn’t expected it to take so long, buying groceries, but apparently, the Doctor’s tastes ran to the unusual…and the specific.

What else would you expect from someone who had dined on the most exotic alien cuisines and sampled the rarest, finest wines in the entire universe?

Watching him fill the shopping cart, Rose mused that, one of these days, she was going to have to get him to prepare her a proper Gallifreyan meal. Well…as proper as you could get with Earth food, anyway.

As she’s putting things away in the fridge, she notices out of the corner of her eye, the Doctor ravenously attack the bundle of bananas they bought. He pulls two off and starts in then while helping her at the same time.

The grin plastered on his face is positively magical, manic--the one she likes to believe he reserves only for her.

The more things change, the more they stay the same….

They continue on, making quick work of their booty, and before long, Rose Tyler once again has food on her shelves.

Tossing the last bag in the rubbish bin, the Doctor turns to her and, somewhat sheepishly asks, “well…now that’s done, reckon I might be able to go and get my…things out of the boot?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah! Of course! “ Rose answers, a little too cheerily. She’s trying too hard, but then, so is he. There’s no boundaries in this place; no walls to be broken down; no TARDIS in which to lose themselves while trying to avoid the inevitable.

Didn’t her mum just tell her to loosen up and give the man a break?

With a quiet sigh, she gives his hand a squeeze and begins to move off towards the guest room/war zone.

“So…you go ahead and bring everything up, and I’ll just clear all the chaos out of the way so that you can actually have a room of your own,” she explains, gesturing towards the bedroom door.

The Doctor seems puzzled for a moment, maybe even a bit deflated, and Rose is sure she’s hurt his feelings just now.

He obviously was not expecting that arrangement, but surely he--

But before she can finish processing those thoughts, he disappears out the door with a quick, “yeah, no problem. Back in a tic.”

She watches him leave with a strange sense of longing, as though letting the Doctor out of her sight for more than a second will cause him to disappear from her life entirely. Rose had grown too used to being without his presence over the long years of their separation--so much so that she’d begun to feel a lingering numbness slowly take over body and mind. There was a point at which she’d become so indifferent to her life and the world around her, that she was desperate to feel the all-consuming pain of mere existence that had dominated her for so long, if only to distract her from the loneliness of a life without him.

Now that the Doctor had come back to her, Rose was afraid to blink her eyes, that she might open them and find that this had all been some kind of fantastically bad dream--a sick joke forced into her subconscious by a weary mind and a shattered heart.

With a shiver, she pushes those negative thoughts away, focusing instead on the task at hand. Removing all the paperwork from the couch and desk, Rose puts everything into a box, which she sets against the wall. To that, she also adds boxes from the desk, filled with all manner of Torchwood gadgetry she’s collected over the years. Most of it is just artifacts from crash sites and archeological digs; things she didn’t think the scientists at the labs should get their hands on.

And some of it she hoped would help her find a way through the walls between the universes and back to the Doctor.

Her proper Doctor.

All those boxes would have to go back to her office at the Tower. She’d do that in the morning, she reasoned, and then turned her attention back to the room at large.

He needed a bed, Rose knew, since the couch in the living room was simply much too small. Fortunately, the one in this room had a hide-away. Yes, that would do nicely.

Just as Rose finished unfolding the bed, the Doctor popped back in, stumbling around the living room with his heavy load. She was just about to go and see if he needed any help, but he beat her to the punch.

“Ow! Bugger…” the Doctor yelps, having accidentally slammed his arm against the door frame in his clumsiness with the bags.

“Oh…umm…sorry,” he finally manages, as he makes it into the room with a lopsided grin on his face, “didn’t realize we’d bought so much. Never needed all of this stuff before,” he says, lifting the bags with his gestures.

One begins to come loose from his grip and almost lands on the floor before Rose manages to catch it first.

“Whoa! I’ve got it! S’okay. Just,” she grabs the fallen bag and gestures to the now-cleared off desk, “put ’em over there so you can sort ’em through.” And he does so, extremely glad to be rid of his heavy burden.

Flexing his arms to return some feeling, the Doctor takes his first glance at the now-cleared out guest room. He notices the bed immediately and raises a eyebrow warily.

“Don’t look at me like that! It’s perfectly alright. Mickey used to sleep here quite often if he left work late; Jake too, sometimes,” and for some reason, that little revelation seems to ruffle the Doctor’s feathers as his eyes burrow into hers, his gaze filled with--was that jealousy? And barely restrained, at that.

Without missing a beat, she continues, “it’s perfectly sound--and bloody well more comfortable than that couch!” She finishes, somewhat defensively, pointing towards the door to the living room.

For the briefest moment, she can see how tense he is, how desperately he wants to push it, push her, but just as swiftly, and in a way she’d become all too used to, he downshifts, replying, “Rose…it’s alright. The bed’ll do just fine.”

He doesn’t want to fight with her, she can see that. He’s tired and raw…and not at all used to having his emotions fly so wildly out of control.

“No need to convince me, you know,” he says, hands raised placatingly. Then, “not like I have reasons to argue,” and he looks so lost right then, that she has to fight herself not to cry.

Their eyes lock for a long moment, and the tension suddenly increases to a new level. Neither of them know what to say to each other without it dissolving into an argument, and its easy to see that they’re both becoming weary of it all.

“Yeah…right. Sorry, I just…let’s just make the bed, yeah? Then you can go ahead and sort your things while I straighten things up a bit, okay?” Rose gives in, her entire body seeming to sag with emotional exhaustion.

They quickly make the bed with a minimum of conversation, and before long, Rose is out the door and back in the living room, leaving the Doctor to himself and his new wardrobe.

“Umm…Rose?” the Doctor calls uneasily from the bedroom, sometime later. Honestly, she’d been so absorbed in her cleaning, that she wasn’t even sure how long it had been since she’d left him in there.

“Yeah?” she answers, without really paying attention, so focused is she on her own tasks.

“Well,” he peeks his head out the door, “it’s just that…this closet’s a bit full up at the moment. D’you want me to just, you know, leave my things in the shopping bags? Because it’s alright. I don’t mind.”

He’s rambling now. She knows that means he’s nervous. He shouldn’t have to be, not around her, especially after everything they’ve been through together, but things have so tense between them the last few hours, that they’re wound tighter than piano strings.

Oh bollocks…she forgot to clear out the closet!

It’s just then, Rose realizes that she hasn’t answered him, and he’s probably wondering if something’s wrong.

“Oh! Right! Just give me a minute, and I’ll be right there, yeah?” she throws back hastily. Grabbing some cleaning supplies, Rose heads the Doctor’s way.

“Hey. Sorry ’bout that. You caught me while I was giving the kitchen a good scrub, so I was probably tuning out distractions,” she explains while pulling out more Torchwood boxes and setting them against the wall with the others. As she turns back towards him and sees his confused expression though, Rose gives herself a mental slap.

That’s not what she meant to say at all.

“N-not that you’re a distraction…or anything. Of course not. It’s jus’…I get caught up sometimes, you know?”

He can tell Rose is trying to put him at ease, but it’s only causing the tension between them to get even worse. Although he’s secretly bristling that she’s treating him with kid’s gloves, the look in her eyes tells him that she is extremely on edge. She looks like the slightest jostle to her emotional state could smash her into a million pieces again.

And Rassilon, if he doesn’t look to her like he’s ready to run for his life.

Bloody hell! He knew they should’ve talked about what happened last night. Denial might’ve been easy at first, what with the shopping and going to Jackie’s, but now it was just the two of them, with nothing but unanswered questions hanging in the air.

“You know,” the Doctor begins, his voice gentle, soothing, “I’m not made of glass, Rose. I’m just…me. We’ve always been honest with each other, yeah?” He gives her that crooked little grin she absolutely adores, and ever-so-slowly, reaches up to lightly run his fingertips across her cheek and down the soft skin of her jaw line. His touch is feather-soft and so unexpected, she actually shivers, even though his hand is incredibly warm.

“I’m not going to break on a simple misunderstanding. Besides, we’ve had worse rows than that, haven’t we love?”

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself, but quite frankly, he’s well beyond giving a damn.

And that just does it.

Rose is standing so stock still, he wonders if she’s even listening to him at all. Her strange silence is starting to worry him, but the searing heat in her eyes as they bore into his own, gives her completely away.

Rose is hanging on his every word. Her heartbeat is thundering in her ears at a million miles a minute, and suddenly she has to remember how to breathe.

Love…

He’d never used that term of endearment before. It would’ve meant crossing the line, breaking down that carefully constructed mental and emotional wall that he’d always kept thrust between them.

But this him…this Doctor had no barriers. He didn’t dance around the truth. He didn’t keep those he cared for at arms length.

He simply loved.

Loved her.

And suddenly, all those little building blocks of her reality started clicking back into place, slamming her back into herself with the strength of the vortex itself.

She tenses for a brief moment with the shock of it, but then relaxes as months--years--of pent up stress bleeds its way out of her body. Rose takes his hand, still caressing her face, into her own, and tilts her head with a soft sigh, closing her eyes and melting into his touch.

She smiles; a true, genuine, Rose Tyler smile, and the gesture makes her face come alive in a way that he’s missed for far too long.

She belongs to him, now, without question. And he will always belong to her.

She is angelic, and in that moment, the part-human realizes, without a doubt, that his Time Lord brother was a fool.

In this moment, they belong to each other.

Finally finding her voice, Rose manages to whisper, “yes.”

Before she can say anything else, the Doctor grins again, and with a low, guttural chuckle, leans in a bit more, whispering back, “quite right, too.”

He then tilts her chin up towards him with his thumb, oh-so- slowly, and meets her lips for a long, lingering kiss.


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...didn't I just go and break the cardinal rule of all fanfiction writers? Never start a story you don't intend to finish. I honestly can't believe its been a DECADE since I last even looked at this thing. I guess being in a lockdown gives one some perspective, doesn't it? If I'm honest, the passing of Ten and David's leaving the show hit me a great deal harder than I realized, and even though I tried as hard as I could to give Matt and Moffat a chance, by the time season 8 rolled around, I just knew that my heart hadn't been in it since David and Russell left. I didn't think that passion would ever be reignited again, but somehow I would up bingeing the first four seasons all over again in lockdown, and all those emotions just came flooding back, and I soon realized that I missed this show with such an ache, it took my breath away. I've come back to this story to give it the attention I believe it deserves, now that I've found my inspiration again.
> 
> Important note: I know that the people who run this site are pretty diligent when it comes to ratings, and if they want to change this chapter rating to dubcon, well, I strongly disagree, but I'm not the one in charge. Yes, the Doctor goes into Rose's mind here, but I've written it in a way that it is very obviously consensual. There's just unforeseen consequences because of his half-humanness.
> 
> Just making everyone aware so no one is surprised or offended. Enjoy! Next chapter hopefully up tomorrow!

Rose slowly ran her fingers over the Doctor's sideburns, lovingly caressing the shell of his ear. Running her fingers though his hair, she lightly scraped her nails along his scalp. The moan that escaped from his throat at the contact bordered on a whimper of desperation.

He was extremely tactile due to being a telepath, especially so in this particular incarnation, and Rose damn well knew it. 

_She wants to play dirty, then? Well, two can play at that game..._

He wasn't entirely sure how well this would work or for how long he could maintain the connection, stuck as he was with a half-human physiology, but at this point he just didn't sodding care. 

He _needed_ that connection with Rose. Was absolutely, positively desperate for it. And he wanted her to be connected to him, in every way possible. Even if he couldn't bond with her the way he'd have truly been able to were he fully Time Lord, he would bloody well give Rose everything he could, no matter what it took.

His other half had wanted this just as much, if not more so, but he would never allow it. Never throw caution to the wind, and just give in to the desire in his hearts.

No. He'd run. Put up walls. Used human buffers as shields to avoid the truth of what he felt for her and flirted outrageously with others out of fear of those emotions, of what would happen if he gave in and allowed himself to love her. 

He'd wasted what little time he knew she had, constantly digging in the reminder of her limited lifespan compared to his own. 

He'd squandered every precious moment they could've had together after she'd willingly promised him her forever - without hesitation or reservation. She had given herself to him in every sense of the word, sacrificing even her own family, to remain by his side, her love for him was so great.

And fool that he was, he threw it all away. 

And for what? Because he wasn't _human_ enough for her? Because he must always be in pain? Must always suffer as the last of his kind in repentance for the destruction his people had wrought? 

Did he not deserve her light? Her love? 

The Doctor understood his other half's despair. Felt it just as keenly. They were the same, after all, but right here, right now in her arms, he was by far, the luckier man. He knew this down to his bones; down to his very soul. 

That was why he ran, the Time Lord. Because he'd known it from the moment he first grabbed her hand and looked into her eyes in that basement, all those years ago. 

Knew it from the word 'run.' 

Rose Tyler was the other half of his soul. 

He hadn't been spending his entire life running from _something_. 

He'd been running _towards someone_. Towards her. 

Rose didn't just stitch up his broken pieces and make him whole again after the pain of the Time War. She'd filled up that empty part of him that had never truly known peace with himself or even his own people. She was that undefinable missing link that he'd been searching for his entire lives.

He couldn't be angry at the Time Lord now, no matter how much he'd wanted to be at first, seeing how devastated Rose was to watch him walk away from her again. 

All he could feel for the man now was pity, profound and immeasurable. 

Pity for a man whose heart would forever be broken...and whose soul would never again be complete. 

For the Time Lord, letting Rose go was the greatest sacrifice he could ever make. 

But, for _this_ Doctor, this second chance at forever with the woman he loved, the day after day adventure that the other would never have, was the Time Lord's greatest gift.

One that he absolutely would not take for granted.

The Doctor slowly wrapped one arm around Rose's waist, lightly running his fingers over the exposed patch of skin at the hem of her jeans, her shirt having ridden up somewhat as she stood on tiptoe to reach him. Ever so slowly, that hand skimmed up, underneath her jumper, tracing the confessions of his love up her back and along her spine in the beautiful, circular language of his people. 

His touch was feather light, and the gentle caress caused Rose to shiver involuntarily all the way down to her toes. She gasped at the sensations he was setting off inside of her, the pleasure so intense, her legs nearly gave out from under her. 

At this point, the Doctor's arm around her was just about the only thing still holding her up, and Rose was utterly fine with that because, as his other hand came up to touch her temple, her mind was overwhelmed with the most intense cascade of emotions she'd ever experienced -

Longing.

Desire.

Adoration.

Reverence.

Awe.

And... _love_. 

So. Much. Love. 

The word itself couldn't even come close to describing what she now knew he felt for her. She understood now why the Time Lord never used the words. No words would ever be enough to express everything she was to him. They were inconsequential. 

Only through the telepathic bond could he make her understand, make her see. 

Rose could feel him as he caressed her mind; could see the intensity of his silver storm as it touched her soul and became one with her golden light. It was as if every part of her left aching and raw from his loss was screaming out for him to keep their promise.

To make them once again complete. 

That unmistakable feeling of whole and right draped around her like a warm embrace as his hand at her back drew her in impossibly closer. 

It was all too much. The intense sensations. The raw, unfiltered emotion. She couldn't contain it any longer. Couldn't hold back. No longer wanted to. Tears streamed from Rose's eyes and down her face as the wolf howled inside her, crying out to the storm, inundating the Doctor with a powerful wave of pure, unfiltered love.

It was blinding and feral as it surrounded him, rocking his senses to their core. Her love was more beautiful than the flow of time itself, the one constant most revered by his people. The Tardis had known, well before Rose had looked into her heart, that they'd always been meant to find their way to each other, no matter the constraints of time or space. Together, their light was fact, immutable, and would burn into eternity.

His eyes shot open, his grip loosening from hers as he stumbled backwards, dropping down with a thud on the edge of the bed. The Doctor's head throbbed as his connection to Rose was instantly and painfully broken, not simply fizzling out as before on the beach. He slammed his eyes shut, his hands grabbing the edge of the bed in a white-knuckled, vice-like grip, breathing in gulps of air as he struggled to get his mind under control. 

Rose hadn't yet moved, standing stock still and rooted to the spot as if caught in some unseen torrent of her own. All of a sudden, she took in a great lungful of air, as if she'd just suddenly remembered how to breathe, and stumbled blindly for something to latch onto so she wouldn't hit the ground. Her hands managed to grab onto a nearby chair, and she gripped it hard, taking short, labored breaths as her body shuddered with the loss their connection. 

He hastily threw up walls in his mind, trying desperately to curb the onslaught of emotions between them and ease her pain. He'd known what it was like to be cut off from such an intense emotional bond. When Gallifrey burned, he felt that once warm, comforting connection to those lives, to those billions of beautiful voices, cut off in a single instant. 

It was excruciating, and it very nearly drove him to the brink of insanity.

He didn't want that for Rose. As an experienced telepath, he knew how to protect his own mind, had done for centuries, but Rose was not. The fact that she could even project any emotions into his mind at all was extraordinary enough, but latent skill or not, there was no way could withstand that kind of mental duress. 

He was so concerned with severing the connection and ending her pain, that he slammed the last doors of his mind shut with little finesse, closing himself off from her so abruptly, it hit Rose with the force of a taught rubber band being snapped in half. 

A wave of dizziness hit her brutally, and she lost her grip on the chair, stumbling forward in her attempt to grab the desk for purchase, but missed entirely and went down with such force, she could already feel the bruises forming on her knees from the hard wood. The pain of being cut off from the Doctor so swiftly, even though their connection had been brief, was tantamount to the worst pain she'd ever experienced in her life. It was the pain of utter emptiness and deafening silence, and it made her head scream.

The Doctor's mind had begun to clear, and he was just aware enough to realize what was happening to Rose. He'd cut her off too quickly instead of easing her out first. She wouldn't know how to handle that pain, that loss. Hearing the sound of something being scraped across the floor, he opened his eyes and tried to focus on where the noise was coming from. 

As his vision cleared and the room before him swan back into focus, he could see Rose struggling to quickly pull a small trash bin toward herself just seconds before emptying her stomach into it. 

"Rose!" he choked out, his voice full of fear and worry. He pushed himself up off the bed and stumbled over to where she was kneeling, quickly pulling her hair up and out of her face as she retched and rubbed his hand soothingly up and down her back, whispering words of apology and comfort in her ear.

Once she started petering out into smaller dry heaves, Rose finally managed to stop the upheaval and take in some much needed breaths. She was breathing hard, her body wracked with sobs, and she was on the verge of hyperventilating if the Doctor couldn't her get to calm down.

Pushing the bin out of the way, he pulled Rose back into his arms, holding her with the warmth and safety of his body, though he'd much rather be giving her the comfort of his mind. 

He rocked her back and forth, whispering into her ear, "Shh...shh. It's alright. I'm here. Just breathe, Rose. Breathe."

Slowly, she began to calm, and her breathing became less ragged. Her sobs began to quiet, eventually becoming little more than sniffles and hiccups. Time passed. Maybe a few minutes. Maybe an hour. Neither of them was really sure, but after a while, the stiff way she was holding herself finally gave way, and Rose sagged back, relaxing in the Doctor's arms. 

She was quiet. Too quiet. The only sound was the slow rise and fall of her chest as Rose's breathing began to even out, making him think she might be asleep. 

"Rose?" He whispered softly in her ear, not wanting to startle her. "Are you alright?" 

"Mmm...?" She mumbled groggily, obviously beyond exhausted and fighting not to fall asleep. Slowly, Rose opened her eyes and turned to look at the Doctor, the pain in her eyes considerably eased, but her mind no less troubled. "I...I'm alright."

He looked at her with such worry in his eyes, softly running his fingers through her hair as she turned in his arms and rested her head on his shoulder, sighing. She knew that look. Had seen it in him dozens of times before in both this body and his other, more leather-inclined one. 

It was guilt. A heaping helping of it.

Grabbing his hand and twining their fingers together, she said softly, "really, I'm okay." He didn't look at all convinced. Rose laid her head on his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart in time with hers calm them and continued, "honestly, I'm more worried about you."

"What?" He squawked, shifting up a bit and slowly lifting Rose's chin with his fingers so that they could be eye to eye once again. He couldn't believe that she was being so...calm. After what he'd done...the way he...

He was surprised Rose hadn't rained down the collective hordes of Genghis Khan on him. He'd always known how particular she was about him using telepathy on her. She'd been very clear about it ever since the beginning of their travels together, and he'd always respected her wishes, but what he'd done just now...

"Rose...this was my fault! I...what I did..." he trailed off, unable to even complete the thought, it horrified him that much.

She cupped his cheek with her hand, but his countenance was so stiff under her fingertips that it seemed as if he was actively trying to lean away from her touch. 

As though he was _unworthy_ of it. 

Grabbing the Doctor's face with both hands, Rose looked into his anguished eyes and said in an unwavering voice, "look at me, Doctor. Look. At. Me. I know you didn't mean it. I know you'd never hurt me, 'specially not like that." 

She spoke with such love and conviction in her tone, but he didn't know how she could ever forgive him. Shaking his head, he pulled her hands away and backed away from her to slump against the wall. With a broken edge to his voice, he replied, "but I did, Rose. I wanted you to understand why he couldn't give you the words. Why he couldn't say it. I _needed_ you to see that what he...I...we feel for you is so deep and so vast that the confines of human language could not possibly contain it. No words ever could. 

"I wanted to connect with you with every fiber of my being. I always have. Why do you think he pushed you away so much before? From the moment we met, your mind cried out to me as if it was instinct, as if it was always meant to be there, and it took everything I had in me just to resist. Why do think I asked you twice? I never bloody ask twice!"

He eyes were round as saucers and a manic, untethered edge started to creep into his voice. 

"I screwed up, Rose! Your light was so bright, and your love was so strong...and I tried to resist it! All those years, I fought and pushed and erected wall after bloody wall! And this is why!" 

Suddenly, his voice calmed and he continued, gaze dropping off as he looked straight through her into an abyss that only he could see, "I knew that one day my resolve would crumble because of how deep and how strong my love for you had become. I was teetering on the razor's edge as it was before I lost you at Canary Wharf -- "

He broke off unexpectedly and looked right at her, "you'd promised me forever. Your forever. And I was gonna take it, Rose. I was gonna sod every bloody rule I ever made, take you to Woman Wept and ask you to marry me..."

She gasped in shock at the revelation and tears sprang to her eyes as she covered her mouth with her hand to choke back a broken sob. He was so lost in his own mind, he didn't even seem to hear her and went on, "...ask you to bond with me. To truly make it forever. But things got in the way...because don't they always? And then we saved the world, but I lost you, and _my_ world ended.

"Getting this second chance with you, the chance to make it right...it was too much to resist! You touched my mind, Rose, in a way that felt so right and made me feel so complete...and I just couldn't fight it anymore! I didn't ask your permission, Rose! I just took! I violated you, Rose! In the worst possibly way! Worse than what Cassandra did, and all because I was selfish! Because I wanted everything with you! Because I wanted forever! And that kind of violation, of the mind...it's unforgivable. All across the universe. Every universe. Even on Gallifrey, it was punishable by death..."

The Doctor's chest was heaving now, his hands grabbing at his hair and sliding down his face in despair and self-loathing.

Her eyes glistening with tears, Rose slowly crawled over to where the Doctor was sitting, propped up against the wall. She plopped down cross-legged, directly in front of him and took his hands in her own, trying desperately to infuse him with as much love and assurance as she possibly could, even with his mind closed off to her. 

She softly replied, a tear falling from her eye and rolling down her cheek, "you didn't take, Doctor. I _gave_. I saw the storm in my mind, felt every ounce of your love, and it was so beautiful and overwhelming. It filled up every part of me that ached for you, longed for you. How could I possibly _not_ give it back? I gave you my light, my love because I wanted to. Because its yours. It always has been. You didn't force me. You never could."

With that, something inside of him seemed to snap back into focus. Hearing Rose's words and knowing that she didn't hold him at fault was a balm to his heart, but it didn't change the fact that he'd lost control and hurt her. He was so wrapped up in her and all these complicated emotions that his part-human body hadn't yet learned to control, that he let his mind spiral. 

Rose could tell he was closing himself off and pushing her away. It was old hat with him after so many years together. But she wasn't going to let it happen this time. She wasn't going to let him retreat into his own mind and wallow in guilt. Opening his legs to make room for herself, she shuffled her body forward and onto his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. 

He was stiff at first and unyielding, but as soon as Rose wrapped her arms around his neck and put her head on his shoulder, the Doctor tightened his grip on her as if his life depended on it. He put one hand on the back of her head, fingers clutching at her hair, the other firmly behind her back as he burrowed his face in her neck and inhaled deeply of her calming scent as if it was the very air he needed to breathe. 

He shuddered violently in her arms and pulled her up straighter, wrapping his arms around her so that he could lay his head on her chest, the drag of her fingers through his hair and her heartbeat soothing his anguish. It honestly scared her how much the Doctor was clinging - it was almost as if he wanted to crawl inside her and never come out. 

The Doctor had never been this bad before, and Rose had seen him through some of the worse situations imaginable. But that was the Time Lord, with maddeningly infinite amounts of self-control and self-discipline. The Doctor in her arms was still that man, and yet not. He was part human. Wild and untamed. All that want and desire and _need_ at war with his Time Lord mind. 

So softly it was almost a whisper, the Doctor said, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should've pulled back before we went too far. I forgot that I'm not him anymore. I might have his mind, but I don't have his control...at least not yet. I honestly wasn't even sure I could do half of what I did, after Norway and all. But even being part human, once you reached out to me, it was like instinct. Your soul calls to mine. It always has. 

"But its no excuse. I should've eased you out rather than cut you off so brutally. It was thoughtless and cruel, and if you never let me in again, I would understand. I can close it off, if that's what you want. Teach you how to erect walls and put up doors to keep me out..."

Placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, she whispered back, "No. It wasn't your fault. I know you didn't mean to do it." Lifting his head so she could look him in the eyes, she continued with a watery smile, "it's just...gonna take time, yeah? You're still new to this whole human thing, and that's alright. Never said it was gonna be easy, did we? Just...gotta take it day by day, slow and easy. It'll take time, but we'll get there eventually, because you're the Doctor, and I'm never gonna stop believing in you. Just like I know you've always believed in me."

"You really think we'll get through this? All this...humany humanness? This day after day?" He asked, slight grin coming back to his face, but his eyes still pleading.

She smiled that tongue touched grin that he loved so damn much, that lit up her entire face, and he knew was reserved only for him, answering, "Well, I'm still Shiver, aren't I? Which means...?" She trailed off, as a grin split his face and the light came back into his eyes.

"Oh, I'm definitely Shake!" He answered, enthusiastically. 

"Mutt and Jeff?" She asked again, with a giggle.

Cupping her face gently in his hands, eyes full of love, he replied, "The Doctor and Rose Tyler. Stuff of legends..."

The Doctor leaned in and was just about to capture her lips with his own, when Rose deftly maneuvered away from his mouth and gave him a light peck on the cheek. He gave a little groan of disappointment, looking at her in slight confusion. He figured that since they'd...sort of...come to terms over intimacy issues, that he was now free to kiss her whenever he wanted. 

And he _wanted_.

Rose grinned at his petulant exasperation, and explained, "you really don't want to do that right now. Trust me. Not after what I did in that bin." 

As understanding dawned, a look of disgust flashed across his face. "Ugh. Oh, you do have a point, there."

She carefully wiggled out of his hold and got herself back into a slightly wobbly standing position, given that her knees kinda still hurt, her head ached, and she was probably dehydrated. And utterly exhausted. 

Extending a hand to him, Rose helped the Doctor to his feet just as another wave of dizziness hit her and she stumbled into him. 

"Whoa, now. Steady, love," he responded with no small amount of worry, as he put his arm around her and led her over to the chair. She dropped down onto it gratefully, and he explained on his way out of the room, "I'm getting you a glass of water. You're likely dehydrated. Sit tight, and I'll be right back."

She could hear him rooting around in the kitchen, and within just a few moments, he returned, glass in hand. Even then, Rose was fighting keeping to her eyes open. All the stress of the day seemed to be crashing down on her all at once. He handed her the glass, and she took it with a little smile, immediately taking a few long gulps.

"Easy, now," the Doctor cautioned her. "Drink too fast, and we'll have to go through all that mess all over again. Don't want _that_ , do we?" She nodded and slowly downed the rest of the water as he looked on adoringly. 

Setting the glass on the table, Rose struggled to stand again, so tired she felt as though her feet were barely touching the ground. With an exhausted sigh, she pointed towards her own room, mumbling, "I'm gonna go brush my teeth and lay down for a kip, 'cause if I'm gonna be any good to Jake tonight, I need to at least be moderately coherent. Just give me a couple hours and I should be alright. You gonna be good hangin' about on your own for a little while?" 

Rose didn't like to ask, because she knew he hated to be 'handled,' but she also knew what he was like when he got bored. And restless. Last time he did something like that on the Estate, he tried upgrading her mother's telly service - with five thousand galaxy-wide channels. Needless to say, it didn't work, and their telly was left a heaping, smoking mess.

He still owed her mother for that one, by the way. 

"Oi! I can handle myself for a few hours, thanks. Time Lord, me. I can always find something to do," he replied indignantly, but at her pointed glare, swiftly amended, hand rubbing that back of his neck, "that doesn't involve household appliances." 

Taking her hand in his, he led Rose off towards her room. Just before she closed her door, he smiled lovingly and brought her hand to his lips, brushing a light kiss across her knuckles.

Once she was firmly in her room and he could be sure she was getting some rest, the Doctor set about finishing tidying up Rose's flat. Starting with the dust bin. It was completely unsalvageable, so he put it in a large trash bag and tossed it in the dumpster outside. No matter. He'd get her a new one. 

Back inside, he finished putting up all of his new clothes in the now, cleaned out, closet, but elected to keep his toiletries in his carry-all until Rose and he could decide how they wanted to divvy up the loo space. There really wasn't a great deal of room in there to begin with, and he honestly had enough hair care products alone to fill up the entire shelf space.

That done, he then quickly finished what remained of the tidying that Rose had started in the kitchen and took out the trash. There really wasn't anything much left to do, and as he checked his internal time sense, (which was still, thankfully, intact, bless), he was irritated to find that only half an hour had passed. That meant that he still had 90 minutes and 27...28...29 seconds until Rose was likely to be up, or he would just have to wake her. 

Well, he was gonna have to keep himself busy somehow. He looked longingly at the telly, certain that he really could upgrade it properly this time if given the chance, but then he remembered:

No sonic screwdriver. 

Everything had happened so quickly when they were on the Tardis, and then before he could even think about grabbing a new screwdriver for himself, they were being unceremoniously dropped off on that godforsaken beach.

_Well, isn't that wizard?_

So, with lack of anything else to do, he sat back on the couch and flipped though some of Rose's magazines, but that really wasn't his thing, and it was all relationshippy stuff that he really didn't understand anyway. He flipped the telly on, but many of the programs were entirely different from their prime universe counterparts, and that just left him confused. He'd have to get Rose to explain it all later. Then, he thought he might take a look at some of the scientific texts Rose had on her shelf; see how Pete's World really did measure up in that regard, though he honestly doubted any of it would be new to him, anyway.

Besides, if he started making his own corrections to her books, she'd probably lob one at his head and give him a lecture about personal property. He never was very good at the personal space thing when it came to her. Oh well. 

Sitting back down on the couch with a physics text, the Doctor started flipping though the first few pages with mild interest. However, after all the stress of the day, his body had other ideas. 

He was out like a light within five minutes.


	12. 11A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:  
> This chapter might come off as somewhat emotionally heavy because it deals quite a bit with Rose's backstory - primarily, the time in her life just after she and the Doctor were separated, as well as after their first goodbye at Bad Wolf Bay. It's important for the Doctor to understand just what Rose went through while he was gone because it contributes a great deal to her mindset now, as they work towards finding their way back to each other. This is another chapter that got away from me, and is going to be split into two.
> 
> There are songs in this chapter that not only set the mood, but are plot points to the story as well: "Saturn" by Sleeping At Last; "Still Lost" by Tom McRae; "Autumn Leaves" by Eva Cassidy; "Gravity" by Sarah Bareilles; "She's Like The Wind" by Patrick Swayze; "She's Got A Way" by Billy Joel; "Time After Time" by Eva Cassidy.

A cacophany of sound. Loud. Blaring.

The noise is enough to startle Rose out of an utterly dead sleep as she white-knuckles the mattress to ward off the dream sensation of falling into nothingness. Cracking open one bleary eye, she groggily stretches her arm out towards the bedside table, grabbing her mobile and silencing the offending racket.

It was some ridiculously awful hip hop song that she might've listened to back on the Estate.

In a different universe.

In another life.

But Rose knew she wasn't that young, innocent girl anymore. Not since the Doctor had come into her life and turned it upside down. With her own eyes, she had seen the limitless wonders of the universe and reveled in its beauty...but she also knew that, for all the joy, the universe could also bring unimaginable pain.

This, Rose knew intimately; had felt the anguish of it every single day since she'd lost him. On the beach that day, as he faded from her life, it was as if her heart had been ripped from her chest and was taken with him. The wound it left behind - that unbearable emptiness - would never truly heal. The Doctor may never have claimed her body when they were together, but he would forever own her soul, and Rose knew with every fiber of her being that she would never be whole without him.

Mickey had tried everything he could to cheer her up; to take her mind off of things. That was where the obnoxious alarm tone had originated. It was supposed to be meant as a joke, to annoy Rose and make her laugh, but his meddling only served to irritate her further. She'd lashed out at Mickey for messing with her phone, but honestly, it didn't even _have_ anything to do with the stupid song. She was terrified that he might accidently delete her camera files. They contained the only pictures she had left...of _him_. Those images were precious memories of their time together that Rose just could _not_ bear to lose.

Now, though, the sadness she felt was of a different kind. The song only served to remind her that Mickey was gone. That he'd chosen, willingly, to go back to their original universe, and she would likely never see him again. She'd been such an unbelievable twat to Mick over the years, taking her pain out on him in ways that he really did not deserve. Still, he'd remained unfailingly loyal. He gave everything he had to help Rose get the dimension cannon up and running, even though he knew what would happen if they were successful - that he was going to lose her forever.

There was a part of her that was so damn angry at Mickey for never saying anything to her before; for not at least letting her know what he was planning. Unfortunately, after the stars had started going out, everything had kicked into high gear and personal issues went by the wayside. Things happened so quickly after that, and by the time all was said and done, they were being dropped off on that godforsaken beach with hardly any real chance to talk or even say a proper goodbye.

She'd planned on changing the song on her mobile more than half a dozen times over the last year, but had never really gotten around to it. Now though...she just couldn't find it in herself to get rid of it. Even though the song was irritating beyond measure, hearing it never failed to keep Mickey in her heart, and that always made her smile.

Giving the phone a cursory glance to check the time, Rose tossed it on the bed and turned over onto her back with a yawn, stretching lazily and cat-like, all the way down to her toes. Without thinking, she automatically extended her arm over to the other side of the bed, for some reason expecting it to be occupied with a certain _someone_.

But, as her hand slid over the cold and empty sheets, she remembered that she was alone. The Doctor wasn't there, having been left to his own devices in the living room. Even though they were only separated by a single, wooden door, the very idea left her feeling lonely and bereft. Even though they'd planned on taking things slowly and getting to know each other again, Rose just wasn't sure that she wanted to wait any longer. An entire universe had driven them apart for years, and now he was finally here, she found that she couldn't stand the idea of one more wall _ever_ separating them again.

Allowing the Doctor into her bed wasn't such a big deal, was it? It _was_ just to sleep, after all. They'd done that any number of times on dozens of adventures, right? No big deal. Not _then_.

But it was a _very_ big deal now.

In the past, their relationship had always teetered on a knife edge, both desperately wanting more but neither having the courage to make the first move. Now, everything was different, and there were no more barriers - no more excuses - to hide behind.

Picking herself up out of bed and shuffling over to the closet for a change of clothes, Rose resolved to at least try and extend the olive branch. She knew she had to approach the Doctor with caution though, and a delicate hand. After what had happened earlier, she was certain he'd be wary of doing anything that might upset her, and if she came on too strong, he'd either wall himself off, or worse yet. bolt.

She didn't want to risk either outcome.

After taking a quick shower, Rose dressed and tiptoed out into the living room feeling much better than she had earlier. Her grumbling stomach reminded her that she hadn't actually eaten anything since that morning, and after her spectacularly disgusting display in the dustbin earlier, she was ravenously hungry. She rang her favorite local Chinese takeaway and placed an order for two, noting by the clock on the microwave that it was three-thirty. If the food arrived by four, they'd have just enough time to eat before having to head over to Mickey's.

Rose hadn't initially noticed the Doctor entirely when she came out of her room, but as she was placing their food order, she'd turned around in her chair at the bar and finally took him in fully. He was laid back on the couch with his legs crossed and feet propped up on the coffee table. His arm was hanging limp by his side, and on the floor next to him was one of her books. He must've dropped it when he fell asleep, and the thought made her lips twitch upward in a small smile.

His head was tipped back, and his mouth was just slightly open, causing little snoring sounds to escape every so often. He was deeply asleep, and she was loathe to wake him, considering how stressful the day had been for them both. As much as he liked to complain about humans needing far too much sleep and wasting an inordinate amount of time doing so, Rose knew that when the Doctor did get around to _actually_ having a kip - rare as it was - the man was absolutely dead to the world, the galaxy, and the universe.

It was equal parts totally frustrating and utterly adorable.

When the food did arrive, it was just about four o'clock, and Rose decided that she was going to have to go ahead and wake him if they had any hope of making it to Mickey's on time. Walking over to the couch, she bent down and retrieved the fallen book, then quietly returned it to it's place on the shelf. Turning around, she sidled back over to him, running her fingers lightly through his 'artfully tousled' hair.

_Dear God, she'd missed this...with an ache that words couldn't even begin to describe._

He moved ever so slightly, inching closer to her touch, even in his sleep. With the lightest of touches, Rose ran her fingers softly over his cheeks. Cupping his face in her hands, she slowly leaned in and joined her lips to his in a sweetly chaste, upside-down kiss.

The Doctor's reaction is nearly instantaneous.

He startles slightly in surprise, but his eyes remain closed, and a soft, pleasure-filled sigh eases out of him as he slowly responds, lightly capturing her bottom lip with his own. One hand comes up to curl in Rose's hair as her tongue unexpectedly darts out, tracing his lips sensuously, teasingly begging for entrance. He doesn't even think twice before allowing her in, losing himself in the heady sensation of _Rose_ , as he slowly explores her scintillating planes and contours.

Heat pools low in her belly as the Doctor's fingernails rake languidly through her hair, pulling her impossibly closer, and suddenly, Rose realizes that this upside-down snogging situation is not at all practical for what she desires.

 _That_ being the Doctor's hands caressing over _every_ square inch of her body.

Breaking away for only a moment, she shimmies around to the front of the couch, wasting absolutely no time in straddling his lap, her thighs enveloping his in an always perfect fit. She can't resist running her hands up his torso, ever so slowly inching her way across his lean abdominal muscles, thin and wiry, but deliciously defined from centuries of running amongst the stars.

Continuing up his chest, she surreptitiously grazes his nipples on her way, eliciting from him a deep, guttural moan and violent shudder that reverberates all the way down to his toes. The Doctor throws his head back, thumping the couch, and his eyes roll back into his head as the he loses himself in everything _Rose_. Without warning, she surges forward, her arms around his neck, and captures his lips with her own.

This time, the kiss is not tinged with the heated rush of pent up, desperate need that they'd indulged in the night before. This kiss is soul-searingly raw, a longing ache, bone-deep, teeming with every repressed emotion, unspoken desire, and hidden _need_ finally laid bare.

The Doctor's heart is beating so rapidly, he feels it might fly out of his chest if Rose keeps going like this, especially with no respiratory bypass available to help him. But at this point, he's beyond caring. If he has to go, then there's _definitely_ no better way than this, wrapped up in Rose Tyler. He has a need to touch her that comes on so strongly, his nerves fairly burn with the pain of it.

His hands come up to first lightly knead her bum, then deftly sneak under her jumper to softly caress the intoxicatingly warm and smooth expanse of her back, pulling her into him even more. He hisses at the painfully glorious friction this creates and captures her own breathy moan with another searing kiss.

Only moments have passed, but time ceases to have any meaning between them right now as the world around them narrows and disappears, leaving them utterly lost in each other.

Out of nowhere, a shrill buzzing sound invades the blissful little bubble that Rose and the Doctor have erected around themselves, the noise causing him to go stock still and her to nearly jump out of her skin, the mood effectively shattered.

Their eyes meet, the Doctor's pupils blown wide and nearly black with unfulfilled _want_. Rose matches his frustrated gaze with her own, filled with embarrassment and apology. She closes her eyes and lets out a irritated sigh, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"Bloody. Fucking. Takeaway." Opening her eyes, she bites her lip, continuing, "I'm sorry..."

A little smile twitches the Doctor's lips as his head and shoulders begin to shake, though he's trying mightily to repress a chuckle. Honestly, something like this could only happen to the two of them. Really.

_Story of their lives._

"Wellll..." he draws out the word, his smile widening into a full-out grin, "to be fair, you were a bit...distracted? Not - not that that's a bad thing, mind..."

"Oh, no...of course not..." Rose replies, as a matching grin lights up her face. She slides off of him slowly, teasingly, and he groans not only at the incredible sensations her movements illicit, but also at her cheek for being able to wind him up even more than he already is.

Grabbing her wallet, Rose heads for the front door and quickly pays the delivery man impatiently waiting on the other side, slipping in a more than decent tip for his trouble. Making her way over to the kitchen counter, she goes about setting out the food containers as the Doctor gets up off the couch, stretching languidly to relieve the pressure in his neck, back, and...other regions.

He saunters slowly over to her, hands instinctively heading towards his pockets, but he thinks better of it, a saucy smirk stealing across his face as a better idea hits him.

He comes up behind her, slowly encircling her waist with his arms, pulling her into his warm embrace. He can feel the heat of her against his chest, the friction of her bum against him a sweet torture that she is all to well aware of, and the sensation is like electricity coursing through every cell in his body.

Rose breathes out a low, seductive laugh, and... _oh_...he _really_ didn't think this through, did he?

" _Minx_ ," he fairly growls, nibbling teasingly at her earlobe, which elicits a long sigh and an impressively violent shudder that she can feel rippling all the way down to her toes.

"I don't hear you complaining..." she breathes out, low and raspy, turning her head up towards him with a heated look in her eyes and soft lips just begging to be kissed. Years of separation and desperate longing has made the Doctor a very greedy Time Lord when it comes to Rose, and he doesn't even hesitate as he leans in like an entranced sailor ready to drown in her siren song.

Rose, however, knows they're in a time crunch. They already lost a few hours to their kip, and she has a very important appointment to keep. She leans back slowly, the Doctor greedily chasing her lips as she wiggles further and further out of his reach. She eventually takes pity on him, though, giving him a hurried, sloppy kiss that ends entirely too quickly for his liking.

"Tea's up...c'mon..." she reminds him, a very satisfied gleam in her eyes as she pulls away and heads back over to the counter to grab her food. For a moment, and with his eyes still closed, he still seems to be lost in Rose and her world of never-ending snogs, until he comes to with a startle, pouting grumpily in disappointment.

Seeing as the Doctor has the attention span of a gnat, though, it takes him all of a few seconds to completely switches gears as his olfactory senses are assaulted with the delicious aroma of dinner. "Oh! Nibbles! Brilliant!" He exclaims, tucking in with gusto. Rose can't help her own tongue-touched grin as she shakes her head in amusement.

_Some things really never change..._

They enjoy their meal in a relatively easy silence, marked by short bits of small talk, mostly about the plan for tomorrow. He knows that the first order of business is getting him settled into Torchwood, yet he can't help but feel a nagging sense of unease about the prospect. While it is true that he'd only agreed to come work for the organization under his own terms, suspicions about their intentions linger in the back of his mind like a looming, dark cloud.

It had nothing to do with Rose or her father. He knows them at their core and trusts them implicitly - with his life. But that's just the problem. They are _all_ he knows of this universe's Torchwood, and as much as he'd like to believe that it is a better place for their influence, every time he's able break through those murky feelings of apprehension, all he can see on the other side is that painfully empty room and that sickening white wall. All he can hear are her screams bleeding into his own, gut-wrenching and visceral, as his soul is ripped apart.

Even though this universe's Torchwood is supposedly much different, what he lost that day is a scar that will forever mark his heart and make his trust exceedingly difficult to earn.

Yet, for Rose's sake, he'll endeavor to give them the benefit of the doubt.

But no second chances.

Because that's _still_ the kind of man he is.

A little while later, their meal finished, they finally head off to Mickey's.

The Doctor can sense Rose's apprehension during the ride over, the weight of it making the air around them heavy. She'd been anxious when they left the flat, which was understandable, all things considered, but she'd become increasingly tense as the drive wore on. He desperately wants to take her hand, just to reassure her that everything would be alright; that she wouldn't have to go through this alone.

Watching Rose though, her attention firmly focused on the road, it wasn't difficult to notice the rigidity in her posture, her tightened grip on the steering wheel. It was as if she'd forgotten for the moment that he was even there. She was on edge, of that there was no doubt, and it was a very familiar sight for him.

One that he intimately understood.

She was compartmentalizing; putting up mental and emotional walls to protect herself from the pain of what she was about to do. He'd done it himself, countless times...especially after the War. The loss he felt was unfathomable, for the countless galaxies and civilizations turned to dust and obliterated from existence; for his beautiful Gallifrey that burned before his eyes, and for the billions whose voices were forever silenced by his own hand.

Those mental and emotional walls were the only things that kept him from losing his sanity during those dark days. He'd been so broken and without hope that he'd become self-destructive and nearly suicidal because, at that point, he simply no longer cared if he lived or died.

Until he met _her_.

He'd been drowning in his own grief and festering in self-pity for so long, that he didn't believe he could see any way out, but Rose's light was like a lifeline, her love and acceptance a balm to his battered and tortured soul. For so long, he'd simply been skulking through the universe, barely surviving, but when she'd come tumbling into his life, _everything_ changed.

Her laugh could make the entire Tardis come to life, and her smile was as bright as the sun, but it was her heart that was the most beautiful; her compassion and unwavering acceptance of him - a lonely, broken man consumed by his own darkness.

Her hand in his fit _so_ perfectly, as if it was made to be there. As if they were _made_ for each other. For the first time in his very long life, since even before the War, he'd let someone break down the walls around his heart.

It was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time. Through her eyes, he'd rediscovered the awe and beauty of the universe. In all his nine centuries of living, he'd seen and experienced more than anyone could ever know, but when he was with Rose, he'd never felt more _alive_.

He wanted to be that salvation for Rose, that light in the darkness, as she'd been for him, because he couldn't bear to watch her lose herself the way he once had. It wasn't difficult to see, however, that her walls were very firmly _up_. If he wasn't careful, or if he pushed too hard, he knew she would retreat even further. She was very much like her mother in that way.

No...he'd have to give her space...and time. She needed the freedom to say goodbye to Mickey and deal with that loss on her own terms, as she had before, when he'd originally chosen to stay behind in this universe. It was gut-wrenching, the chasm between them then, and at the time, it had felt almost insurmountable.

Granted, he'd had his own part to play in that colossal mess, and it had started long before their accidental first arrival in the parallel universe. He'd screwed up royally back then, working overtime to put distance between Rose and himself because seeing Sarah Jane again, after so long, was like a cold dose of reality slapping him squarely in the face. He just couldn't seem to reconcile the young, vibrant woman he'd known so long ago with the wiser, less innocent, and slightly bitter older woman she'd become. She'd put so much of her short life on hold waiting for him to come back to her, only to find herself thirty years later, heartbroken and alone.

It was a stark reminder that the fantasy he'd lost himself in, that he and Rose would be together forever, was never meant to be. Whether it was on an adventure or to old age, in the end, he knew he would lose her. But Rose was different. She wasn't just a companion. She'd always been so much more. She was a part of him, and his love for her was embedded in every cell in his body. He was born out of his ninth self's sacrifice; out of his love for this one, brilliant, pink and yellow human, and he knew, in the deepest part of his hearts, that if he had to watch her die...it would destroy him.

The pain would consume him...but it would not be the rage of the Oncoming Storm that would bring the universe to its knees.

No...

It would be the Lonely God, lost in his grief, that would cause reality itself to tremble. Her loss would've destroyed not just his hearts, but what was left of his soul, and for that...everything would burn.

When he'd begun to realize just how deep he'd fallen, he felt he had no choice but to push her away. He justified it by telling himself that she deserved better than a bitter, broken old man who could never spend his forever with her. If that meant being brutally honest with Rose about their differences, acting like a moron with a French courtesan to purposefully cause her pain and make her second guess their relationship, or plant Mickey as a living, breathing human buffer between them, then as long as he could keep her at arms' length, he could save himself from the pain of her loss once she inevitably decided to leave him.

Just as they all did.

But, again, Rose was different. After Mickey's decision to stay behind in Pete's World, she'd definitely needed time to adjust, but once she'd come through it, they'd become even closer than before, to the point where sometimes he didn't know where she ended and he began.

He wanted that closeness with Rose again, despite how dangerous the consequences could be. He wanted to be her light in the darkness, a hand to hold and a shoulder to cry on - the balm to her soul, as she was his - but he couldn't force it. They were not the same people they used to be, all those years ago. Loss and grief had hardened them both, but that didn't change what they felt for each other. It never could.

He had to believe in her, as he'd always done. It was what always gave him strength in his darkest moments. As long as she knew he was there and always would be, eventually, he had to hope she would open up to him.

After a little over twenty deafeningly silent and uncomfortably tense minutes of driving, Rose and the Doctor arrived at Mickey's East End flat. The building was nondescript and could've been mistaken for any block of random Council Estates, but there were certain differences that alluded to the fact that this was no _Bucknall House_.

It had a much better outward appearance, for one, confirming that the place was definitely well maintained. Posher than it looked, for sure, but still within spitting distance of a chippy and right down the corner from the pub.

_You could take the boy out of the Estates, but you could never take the Estates out of the boy..._

The two silently headed into the lobby, the security guard giving Rose a small wave and warm smile, which she kindly returned. The Doctor quickly stomped down on the strong bolt of jealousy that shot through him unexpectedly. Why was he being such a prat? Mickey was...is...her best mate. It should've come as no surprise that she'd been to his flat before, and that she had a friendly rapport with the guard.

She made friends wherever she went. That was just who Rose was...and it was one of the reasons why he loved her so very much.

A quick elevator ride later, and the door to the flat was soon looming in front of them. The tension coming off of Rose was palpable now, radiating off of her in waves. She raised her hand to knock, but stopped just short. It was as if she just couldn't make herself move.

The Doctor understood what she was going through with painful clarity. He'd gone through this, himself, after...he'd lost her. At first, he couldn't bear to even go near her room, and the Tardis had grieved for her just as keenly. She had sealed off Rose's room from sight, to the point that even _he_ couldn't find it. If he didn't have to go in there, then that wouldn't make it real. He wouldn't have to be crushed by how empty his life had become without her, or be tempted to lose himself in all the little bits and pieces of herself that she'd left behind.

To drown in his memories of her and never come up for air.

It wasn't until Donna came on board, giving him the swift kick in the arse he needed to pull himself out of his misery, that he'd eventually gotten up the courage to revisit her room once again. The Tardis could sense that he was ready to at least _try_ and move on, finally allowing Rose's room to reappear for him. Most of those times, he would just stand there and stare at the door, willing with every fiber of his being for her to be behind it.

Every time he opened the door, however, she was never there.

Every time, the room was cold and lifeless.

And every time, he could feel his hearts harden that much further.

But sometimes, there were moments when the pain was so raw, and his need was so great, that he would just curl up on her bed, clutch her pillow to his chest and bath in her scent, while his mind wandered off into his memories for hours at a time.

He knew that walking into an empty flat would make this painfully real for Rose, the fact that Mickey was well and truly gone, and this time, there would be no coming back. Taking a chance, he slowly slipped his hand into hers, entwining their fingers and tried to infuse her with every ounce of comfort and assurance he could muster.

He was fully prepared for her to pull away, as she had been emotionally for a while now, but she surprised him by tightening her grip ever so slightly in acceptance. She turned to him with a small, grateful smile that he returned in earnest, letting her know without words that she wouldn't have to go through this alone.

A second later, taking a deep breath and squaring her courage, she raised her free hand and knocked.

After a long moment, the door opened to reveal a tired-looking Jake Simmonds.

"Heya, love. Doctor. Come on in," he greeted them with a friendly but worn out smile and gestured them inside. "Thanks for helpin' me do all of this. I've only been here a coupla hours, and I've only just barely worked my way through the kitchen. I think I'd have gone spare without a few extra hands..."

Rose doesn't even hesitate before wrapping Jake in a warm, comforting hug. Looking on, the Doctor can easily tell that the gesture isn't solely for Jake's benefit.

"Hey...no worries. That's what friends are for, yeah?" She reminds him with a small smile and a peck on the cheek. "So...where do ya want us to start, then?"

The Doctor doesn't comment about being left out of their conversation because he knows this whole thing really isn't about _him_. It's about Rose and Jake dealing with their grief and figuring out how to say goodbye. He's well aware that he's just the extra muscle for right now, and that's fine with him.

If Rose needs him, then there's no place he'd rather be.


End file.
